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IT ISN’T A DREAM 





COPYEIGHT 
1912 BY 
THE PENN 
PUBUSHNG 
COMPANY 




5tCI.A3;i0349 


Introduction 


“ The Admiral’s Granddaughter ” told the story of 
one autumn at Beaumont Corners when Nancy Beau- 
mont almost parted from her dearest treasure, for love 
of her brother and the Admiral. In “ The Admiral’s 
Little Housekeeper ” Nancy has many good times with 
friends, and some anxiety over a secret kept for weeks 
by her old “mammy,” Aunt Sylvia. The third book, 
“ The Admiral’s Little Secretary,” tells of the experi- 
ences of the Beaumont family in the city to which they 
went for a few months for Nancy’s sake. In the 
present book the Beaumonts are at home again with 
old and new friends around them, and once more a 
treasure is saved — this time for the Admiral. 


3 








Contents 


1 . In the Beaumont Garden ... 9 

II. Desdemona . ..... 21 

III. Tact and Tea 33 

IV. Summer Plans 45 

V. A Delightful Surprise ... 54 

VI. Camp Wind-Away .... 63 

VII. An Old Story 74 

VIII. “ Calm and Moderate ” . . .86 

IX. The Art Class 98 

X. Visitors 113 

XI. At Wind-Away Lodge . . . .126 

XII. Glenn Talks to the Admiral . .138 

XIII. A Roadside Call 145 

XIV. The Prize Winner .... 156 

XV. The Beaumont Forestry League . 17 1 

XVI. Mrs. Carter’s Secret . . . .178 

XVII. At the River Path . . . .185 

XVIII. The Picnic 19 1 

XIX. The Admiral Joins the Orchestra . 202 

XX. The Treasure From Pirates’ Rock . 209 


5 


] 


Illustrations 


“ It Isn't a Dream ” . 

‘‘ He Will Like the Things You Do ” 
“ Paint It Just As You See It ” . 

She Blew Her Whistle 
“ Everything Is Ready " . 


PAGE 

. Frontispiece 

• 51 

. 102 
. . 161 


. 192 


The Admiral’s Little Companion 


f 


k 



The Admiral’s Little Companion 

CHAPTEE I 

IN THE BEAUMONT GAEDEN 

Eed, an’ pink, an’ gold, an’ white — red, an’ pink, 
an’ gold, an’ white,” chanted Aunt Sylvia. “ If dey 
don’ look handsome, den I don’ know what handsome 
is ! I’m right glad I had ’Yanus bring my rocking- 
chair out hyah, so I can smell de roses an’ breave in de 
air. An’ de sun feels good to my pore ole bones ; 
ya-as-m, it cert’nly does.” 

Aunt Sylvia stretched her arms above her head and 
gave a wide yawn of content. She was sitting in an 
old yellow rocking-chair, carried out into the garden 
half an hour before by Sylvanus, and placed in a spot 
where his mother could survey the rose arbor and the 
vines and bushes near it, choosing at her leisure the 
best buds and blossoms to be cut with her big shears 
and dropped into the long wicker basket which lay on 
the grass beside her chair. She had cut a long spray 
of little yellow roses whose petals were faintly edged 
9 


lo The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

with pink, and now held them up to the sun, looking 
at them with critical eyes. 

“ Seems almost ’s if the pink aidge was a teeny 
mite pinker ’n usu’l,” she mused, “ but I cyant tell 
— maybe ’tis de same as always. De pretties’ rose 
dat grows, ’tis — Pride o’ de Souf — an’ well worf de 
name.” 

She let the spray drop on the others in the gathering 
basket and folded her hands, rocking to and fro in the 
sunshine, talking to herself. 

“Apple-blossom time I mos’ fell sick o’ longing, 
way off in de city,” she murmured, “ but now it’s rose 
time, an’ we’s home again, an’ comp’ny’s coming, an’ 
de worl’ is full o’ goodness, I ain’ got room for nuffin 
but joy ! Dip into de rose cup an’ take yo’ fill, little 
greedy bee ! Dere’s plenty lef’ to fill de air o’ June. 
Ya-a-sir, dere’s honey ’nuff fo’ all de bees in de Avorl’, 
I reckon, right hyah in dis garden. An’ my little 
queen o’ sweetness coming right dis way. Dere’s her 
sure-’nuff voice talking. Listen now ! Ain’ dat a 
sweet soun’, little greedy bee ? ” 

“ Down this path and along the larkspur hedge ” 

the soft, clear voice of Nancy Beaumont seemed to her 
mammy’s ears to match the lovely, golden quiet of the 
early summer day. She held her breath to listen, as 


In the Beaumont Garden ii 

the bee came out from the rose cup and swung off, 
humming, to another bush. 

“What’s larkspur?” came in a boy’s voice, and 
there was the sound of arrested footsteps, and then 
Nancy’s laugh. 

“ Oh, I don’t know how to tell you what larkspurs 
are,” she said. “See, there are some, growing all 
lovely purple in the sun ; and there are pale lavender 
ones and there are real blue ones — those are the com- 
monest of all, and perhaps the very prettiest. Don’t 
you like them ? ” 

“ They stand up kind of like soldiers,” said the boy’s 
voice. “ I like that about ’em. I guess I like every- 
thing about ’em, excepting they don’t smell much, do 
they ? It always seems as if flowers ought to smell as 
pretty as they look. Eoses do.” 

“Yes, -so they do,” said Nancy, “and we’ll be with 
the roses in just a minute. You aren’t tired, yet, are 
you ? ” 

“ Tired ! ” the boy’s laugh rang out and Aunt Sylvia 
smiled at the sound of it. “Nobody could be tired 
here ! My head hasn’t jumped once since we got here, 
and last night I never winked after I got into bed till 
I waked up when Aunt Sylvia came into the room. 
I had a bang-up sleep. Nancy, would the Admiral 


12 


The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

mind my saying that ? I can’t talk educated all at 
once.” 

“ Oh, no, he wouldn’t mind one bit,” laughed Nancy. 
“ Only, he’s keeping a list of the words you use that he 
doesn’t quite understand, and he has me look them all 
up in the dictionary, and when I can’t find them he 
puts a little red cross against them ; that means he’ll 
ask you to explain them to him some day. But I’m 
quite sure he won’t need to put ‘ bang-up ’ on the list. 
Now let’s find Aunt Sylvia and decide on the very best 
place to plant your geranium.” 

A moment later they reached the rose arbor and 
walking through it came to Aunt Sylvia in the rocking- 
chair. Nancy and the boy carried between them a 
wide basket in which was a good-sized pink geranium 
in a pot. Nancy’s right hand and the boy’s left held 
the handles of the basket. The boy’s right arm hung 
rather close to his side. 

“ He wouldn’t let me carry it all by myself. Aunt 
Sylvia,” Nancy announced to her old mammy as they 
set the basket down on the grass, and seated themselves 
one at each side of it, facing Aunt Sylvia. “ He said 
it was heavy for a girl to carry, though ‘ if he’d been 
as strong as he used to be it wouldn’t have been any- 
thing for him ! ’ ” 


In the Beaumont Garden 


»3 


“ Dat’s de way a boy feel, honey,” said Aunt Sylvia, 
looking with approval at the big-eyed, thin-cheeked, 
little Irish lad whose head was thrown back as he 
sniffed the rose-scented air. “ Ya-as, chile, dat’s de 
way he feel an’ dat’s de way he hetter feel, ’kase den 
he’ll grow up like de Beaumont gen’lemen, an’ wait on 
de ladies proper.” 

‘‘I guess there’s no danger of a Patrick Donovan 
getting such fine manners he’ll be taken for a Beau- 
mont,” laughed the boy. ‘‘ It’s all right for the kids 
to call me ‘ King Arthur,’ and Kancy if she wants to, 
for fun, but outside o’ the story-telling, Patrick Dono- 
van is what I am. An’ I don’t mind. If I’d been a 
reg’lar swell kid like King Arthur must have been 
when he was a boy, I’d never have — I’d never have 
been here,” he finished hastily. “ Gee ! but this is a 
great garden. I’ve read about ’em, but I never thought 
I’d be sitting right square in the middle of one ! ” and 
his thin fingers closed around a little handful of grass 
blades as if to make sure they were real. 

Kancy began to tell him about the different roses, 
and Aunt Sylvia listened and watched the two faces. 
It was an experiment of the Admiral’s, this transplant- 
ing the little newsboy who had saved Kancy’s life at 
the risk of his own, and had spent many weeks in the 


14 T/ie Admiral' s L,ittle Companion 

hospital with a broken arm and cut head as a conse- 
quence. The Admiral’s gratitude and his recognition 
of unusual qualities in the boy had led to the plan for 
little Patrick Donovan’s summer at Beaumont Corners, 
and would lead to many more plans for his future. At 
first Aunt Sylvia doubted the wisdom of this transplant- 
ing, but already she was being won over. 

“ If ’t hadn’t been fo’ dat boy my lamb wouldn’t 
ebber been sitting anywhar ag’in,” she murmured as 
she rocked and listened. “ An’ he cert’nly is de grate- 
fullest boy in his actions, even if he don’ say much 
’bout it. He come along up hyah wid de fam’iy yest’- 
day jess same as if he belonged, but he helped ’Yanus 
tote all de bags an’ bundles, an’ if he’d had de full use 
o’ his right arm same as his lef’, I don’ know as there’d 
’a’ been anyt’ing fo’ ’Yanus to tote. W’at you axin’ 
me, honey ? ” 

“ Where do you think we’d better put the geranium. 
Aunt Sylvia?” asked Haney. “That’s what King 
Arthur and I can’t quite decide. We’d like it to have 
plenty of room to spread so that when it’s taken up 
out of the ground to go to the hospital again next 
autumn it will be a great big bush, big enough for the 
children to play it’s a tree.” 

“ What do you t’ink o’ dat bed whar de ambrosy 


In the Beaumont Garden 15 

plants grows, front o’ dem, whar dat little pindlin’ 
rose died away ? ” asked Aunt Sylvia after a moment’s 
reflection. “ ’Pears to me like dat would be a firs’-rate 
place for dat pinky geran’um.” 

“ It’s the very best possible place,” said Nancy with 
conviction. ‘‘Do you think we might do it our- 
selves, or will it need to be planted very deep. Aunt 
Sylvia ? ” 

“ Better let ’Yanus ’tend to it,” said Aunt Sylvia. 
“ You two chillun jes’ sit still an’ drink in de sunshine. 
I wants to ax you a question, boy. Has you got any 
middle to dat name o’ yours ? — yo’ real name, I’m 
axin’ ’bout.” 

“Sure I have,” said the boy. “I’ll sign it to the 
letter I’m going to write to the hospital this afternoon 
— Patrick G. Donovan — the G. stands for Glenn ; that 
was my mother’s name before she married my father.” 

“ Oh, I think that’s a splendid name,” cried Nancy. 
“ I’m sure grandfather would like to call you Glenn. 
Would you mind ? ” 

“ He can call me anything he likes,” said the boy 
gaily. “ I’d be a queer fish to care what he calls me, 
when he’s giving me all this,” and he spread his arms 
in a gesture which included Nancy, Aunt Sylvia, the 
garden and the sky. “ I knew he didn’t like the sound 


i6 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

of Patrick very well, though it’s a good name, all the 
same.” 

“ Oh, of course it is,” said Nancy quickly. It’s a 
fine name, only the other sounds a little more ” 

“ Sounds more like a story-book name,” and the boy 
gave his wide, good-natured smile ; “ and it matches 
this place better. Why don’t you all call me Glenn if 
you like the sound of it ? King Arthur is sort of — 
well, it belong-s to the kiddies I tell stories to, first, 
and sometimes it makes me feel as if I was putting on 
airs,” he ended bluntly, wriggling his shoulders, and 
looking at Nancy in the hope that she might under- 
stand. 

And Nancy did; so did Aunt Sylvia, who nodded 
her head violently several times, murmuring, “ ’Course 
he do ! ’course he do feel jes’ dat-a-way ! ” 

“ I shall begin to call you Glenn right away,” said 
Nancy. “ Oh, Glenn, don’t you hear something clink- 
clinking along the path ? • I do. I’m pretty sure it’s 
lemonade glasses on a tray, and Betty is bringing them 
to us. Yes, here she is — and there are frosted cakes, 
Glenn, too ! ” 

Eosy-cheeked Betty in the stiffest and whitest of 
aprons, with a little cap on her head, came through 
the rose arbor, and over the short grass of the little 


In the Beaumont Garden 17 

path, to the place where Aunt Sylvia sat in her rocking- 
chair with the two children beside her. Betty tried 
very hard to keep back her smiles, but she could not 
quite do it, when !Nancy spoke to her. 

“Oh, Betty, how nice it is to see you bringing 
luncheon over the grass,”* said Nancy, as the tray 
changed hands, and Aunt Sylvia set it on her lap, 
scrutinizing the lemonade and cakes with a keen eye. 
“ Are you glad to be at home, Betty, after the lovely 
time you had at Mrs. Carter’s, learning all sorts of 
things ? ” 

Betty’s smile widened until her eyes almost disap- 
peared behind the creases of her rosy cheeks. 

“ Indeed, Miss Nancy, there’s no place in the world 
I’d sooner be than at Beaumont Corners,” she said, and 
then added, shyly twisting one corner of her apron be- 
tween her fingers — “now you and your folks have 
come home, I mean.” 

“ Thank you, Betty,” said Nancy as the maid turned 
away, after a little bobbing curtsey, and Aunt Sylvia 
nodded approval. 

“ She hasn’t forgotten all I taught her, I’s glad to 
see dat,” said Aunt Sylvia. “ ’Course I got to practice 
her a leetle mite on dat curchy ; she’s got kind o’ 
stiff enduring all dese mont’s we’s been away, but she 


i8 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

’members de gen’ral motions. I spec’ some clay she’ll 
make a firs’-rate lady’s maid if she don’ get biggety 
notions — an’ I reckon I can keep her from getting ’em 
— ya-as-m, I reckon I can,” and she pursed her lips and 
nodded again with the air of one whose plans are fully 
matured. “Now, Glenn, is you gwine take a glass an’ 
hand it real pretty to Miss Nancy ? ” 

The boy sprang to his feet, and seized the glass indi- 
cated by Aunt Sylvia with both hands. She expected 
to see its contents spilled, but it reached Nancy with- 
out the loss of a drop. 

“You did dat mighty well,” commended Aunt 
Sylvia. “ I reckon your handing out med’cine to dose 
little sick folks at de hospital has made you more care- 
fuller dan raos’ boys. Now you pass Miss Nancy de 
cakes.” 

The boy did as he was told, and then receiving his 
own glass and a frosted cake, he reseated himself cau- 
tiously and began his feast. 

“ Say, Nancy,” he blurted out after a moment, “ I 
can’t believe it’s true — ^me, sitting here on the grass, 
and having a frosted cake and lemonade — and the city 
way off — and no papers to sell — and that room with 
the blue flowers on the wall, and that bed soft as snow 
to sleep on — and those muffins for breakfast — say, 


In the Beaumont Garden 19 

Nancy, I keep thinking I’ll wake up and find it’s all 
gone — I do, honest and true ! ” 

Aunt Sylvia began to hum, loudly, turning her face 
away from the two children, to look back at the rose 
arbor. 

“I see a branch dat needs some ’tention,” she 
hummed, setting words to a rambling tune ; “ I see a 
branch dat needs it, so it do ! Oh, whar’s dat ’ Y anus ? ” 

“ It isn’t a dream,” said Nancy earnestly. “ Grand- 
father would like to make it so true that all the rest 
would be like a dream — the years when you were cold 
so often, and hungry, and had no real home, and 
worked so hard. Oh, grandfather would like to make 
you forget that, Ki — Glenn. Because there’ll never be 
any more of that.” 

Her soft eyes were very pitying as she looked at him, 
but the boy flushed and shook his head, his own eyes 
clear and shining. 

‘‘No,” he said, “I don’t want to forget any of it, 
Nancy. Because when I’m grown up if I’m lucky 
enough to get to be a doctor, the way the Admiral and 
the General plan. I’ll want to remember exactly how 
it feels to be cold and hungry and be knocked around, 
and yet have good friends and good times in spite of it 
— so I’ll know how to help boys without letting ’em 


20 


The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

see I’m sorry for ’em. I never wanted anybody to be 
sorry for me,” and the chin of little Patrick Glenn 
Donovan took on its most independent look ; “ ’long as 
I had my two arms and legs I was all right — and my 
head,” he added. 

“And you almost lost all of them for me,” said 
IN'anoy sorrowfully. 

But the boy laughed, and sprang to his feet. 

“ And a lucky day it was for me,” he cried. “ Oh, 
I’m telling you true when I say I don’t want to forget 
anything, E'ancy, but all the same it wouldn’t be any 
cinch to go back to living the old way, after you folks 
have let me try having somebody to look after me, and 
to belong to. I’m so full of it, I feel like a sky-rocket, 
just ready to go off. Let’s go help Aunt Sylvia ’tend 
to that branch, shan’t we ? I want to be doing things, 
whenever there’s a chance, or else I couldn’t take all 
you’re giving me. I’ve got to pay my way when I 
can, !Nancy. All I can do, studying, to please your 
grandfather, and learning manners — ’twon’t be half 
enough to show the way I feel — you can just bet on 
that!” 


CHAPTER II 


DESDEMONA 

About three-quarters of a mile from the big house 
at Beaumont Corners there stood a great oak tree 
which spread its branches far out over the road, so 
high from the ground that they did not interfere with 
travelers who passed that way, but not high enough to 
keep the tracery of dancing leaves from showing on the 
sunlit road. 

While Haney and Patrick Glenn Donovan were sit- 
ting on the grass, enjoying their lemonade and cakes, 
a slender, freckle-faced little girl with red hair that 
gleamed like burnished copper in the sunshine stood 
gazing intently at the dancing shadows on the road. 
A long-sleeved, high-necked apron, of a soft brown 
color, covered her dress, and her forehead was puckered 
with earnestness. 

In the bushes, across the road from the great oak, 
there was a camp-stool, and in front of it stood a rough 
easel. On the stool lay a box of crayons. 

After a few minutes the little girl walked back to 
21 


22 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

the camp-stool, seated herself, and began to work on the 
half -finished sketch which stood on the easel. 

“ I wish I could just slap some knowledge into my- 
self,” she said in a fierce little voice, after working 
steadily for ten minutes. “ I can’t make those shadows 
right, and I don’t know why I can’t — and I don’t want 
Mr. Sigourney to be disappointed when he comes up 
from the brook for luncheon, and he will be. Oh — 
there — I believe that’s better ! I do, true as you live ! ” 

She fell to work with renewed energy. Then she 
stopped, leaned back, half shut her eyes, nodded to her- 
self, and began to whistle, at first softly, then louder 
and louder, with many trills and scales. A man, com- 
ing across a meadow, a little way down the road, smiled 
as he heard her. 

. “ Mona’s done something that satisfies her,” he said 
to himself. “ That’s good. She’s earned a little vaca- 
tion, and I’ll give it to her, with mother’s consent. 
She shall go to see her beloved Nancy this afternoon.” 

He stepped through a gap in the stone wall, out to 
the road, and in a moment came in sight of the little 
whistling girl. When she saw him the whistling 
ended abruptly, in the very middle of a tune, and the 
little freckled face beamed with welcome. 

“Please, please come here quick, Mr. Sigourney,” 


Desdemona 


23 


cried Desdemona Macdonald, “and tell me whether 
I’ve really made those shadows look like shadows or 
whether they just look like dabs of mud, the way they 
have every time I’ve tried before.” 

She sat with her eyes fastened on the artist’s face as 
he scanned the work on her easel with a critic’s keen- 
ness. She held her breath, trying to guess from his ex- 
pression what he might be going to say to her. 

“ We-11,” he said at last, his down-dropped lids hid- 
ing the look in his eyes. 

“ Well what ? ” begged the little girl. “ Please don’t 
tease me, Mr. Sigourney ! It’s so important ! If I 
can’t do a thing like that, why, I might just as well go 
home and stay in the basement and help with the 
washing and answer the telephone, instead of staying 
here in this perfectly beautiful country with your 
mother, who hardly lets me do any work at all, and tak- 
ing your valuable time on false pretenses ! That’s the 
way it seems to me, truly.” 

The artist opened his eyes wide and let the little girl 
see the look of pleasure and something very like pride 
grow in his face. 

“ Mona Macdonald,” he said gravely, “ I solemnly 
promise not to tease you this morning, at any rate. 
You’ve done a very good piece of work — a very good 


24 The Admiral's Little Companion 

piece of work. No one could possibly mistake those 
for anything but shadows. I begin to respect myself a 
little bit as a teacher, and to have the greatest belief in 
the ability of my pupil. But you mustn’t be so tragic, 
my child. Even if you had not succeeded with the 
shadows this morning, you might have done it to-mor- 
row. ‘Art is long,’ you know,” and he smiled at 
Desdemona in a reassuring way. 

“ I guess I know,” said the little girl ; “ our art 
teacher at school used to say that every day, and I 
should think she would have. She’s pretty old and 
she’s never got beyond pitchers and vases and still-life. 
And you couldn’t pour out of one of her pitchers, Mr. 
Sigourney, for there was always something queer about 
their shape ; they bulged in the wrong places ; she said 
they were ‘ from the antique,’ but I never could see 
why the people that lived in Greece and Kome should 
have liked to have things spilled all over them any 
more than we should to-day.” 

“ Speaking of ancient Greece and Rome,” said Mr. 
Sigourney, taking out his watch and consulting it, 
“ don’t you think it’s about time we had some dinner. 
Miss Desdemona Macdonald ? I’ve painted till the sky 
begins to look green, and I’m sure you’ve been at it 
long enough. Let’s go home to mother, and this after- 


Desdemona 


25 

noon we’ll all take a holiday and go to Beaumont 
Comers.” 

Desdemona gave a little shriek of joy, and clasped 
her easel, picture and box of crayons to her heart, 
thereby decorating the brown apron with black smudges 
of various sizes and shapes. 

“ Oh,” she cried rapturously, “ I didn’t suppose there 
was any chance of my seeing her again before Sunday 
at any rate. I told her yesterday that of course she 
understood I was here to work just as hard as ever I 
could so you wouldn’t regret letting me come, and I 
said, ‘ It’s very different with you, Haney, but I have 
my way to make in art and the world, and even friend- 
ship must be — must be secondary.’ ” 

“ ‘ Secondary ’ was a very large, handsome word to 
use in that connection, Mona,” said Mr. Sigourney 
without a suspicion of a smile, “but I think we’ll 
manage to keep friendship pretty well in line with art 
for the next few years. And so that we may be fitted 
for both, let us now seek nourishing food, or we shall 
fall by the wayside. I shall, at all events.” 

Desdemona’s face grew less serious, and she even 
laughed a little as they stepped out into the road and 
trudged along, whistling softly together. They had not 
far to go before they came to a grass-grown driveway 


26 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

which wound across a field. The field changed to a 
gently-rising slope, and at its highest point there was a 
long, brown, green-roofed bungalow. Three months 
before it had been a long, yellow, gray-roofed house, 
sadly in need of paint inside and out, and with shingles 
and windov^r panes missing. When Mr. Sigourney de- 
cided to buy instead of hiring it he went to Potterville, 
taking with him a young architect ; together they spent 
a week planning changes and renovation, and within 
six weeks, to the amazement of all Potterville, the ugly 
old house was transformed into an attractive bungalow. 

It looks all fair enough,” remarked Bartley Pear- 
son, the Potterville postmaster, on his return from a 
thorough inspection of the premises, “ but what I say 
is that time is the test of all work, and it remains to be 
seen how what those city workmen have throwed to- 
gether in six weeks will stand the wear and tear o’ 
years. I’m not making any predictions — all I say is — 
wait ! ” 

Mr. Sigourney referred to this warning utterance, 
which had been promptly reported to him, as he and 
Desdemona wound up the road to the bungalow. 

“ Doesn’t seem as if there could be much wear and 
tear in this lovely place, does it, Mona ? ” he said. 
“ How does it look to you, the more you see of it ? ” 


Desdemona 


27 


“ It looks perfectly entrancing, just the way it did 
the very first minute I set my eyes on it,” said Desde- 
mona fervently. “ Oh, Mr. Sigourney, for pity’s sake, 
look at my apron, all smudged with black, and it was 
put on clean this morning. What will take out the 
smudges? Haven’t you something in your box that 
will do it, before we get to the house ? Here, we could 
stop behind this tree ! Ho, it’s too late ; there’s your 
mother in the window. Oh, dear, I hope she won’t be 
discouraged beyond words with me ! ” 

A dainty little white-haired lady appeared in the 
doorway, a smile of welcome on her face. Desdemona 
flew to her and exhibited the offending smudges with- 
out a moment’s delay. 

“ Look at me,” she said dolefully. “ I’m a sight, 
Mrs.^Sigourney ! If you said I wasn’t fit to be allowed 
inside your nice clean house I couldn’t blame you ! ” 
Mrs. Sigourney twirled her about gently, and unfast- 
ened the row of buttons which secured the apron in 
the back. Then she smilingly bade the little girl put 
down her easel and other things and slip the apron off. 

“ There ! ” she said, patting the pretty gingham that 
appeared, fresh and spotless, when this was accom- 
plished. “ How you’re all right. Don’t you know I’m 
used to painting aprons, my dear ? ” 


28 The Admiral's Little Companion 

“ Oh, thank you ! ” breathed Desdemona gratefully. 
‘‘You have the most comfortable ways ! I wish you’d 
look at my sketch, please, Mrs. Sigourney, and tell me 
if you’d know what it is meant for. It will be very 
encouraging for me if you can tell.” 

“ Let me see,” said the little white-haired lady, half 
shutting her eyes, and holding the sketch well away 
from her. “ Why, of course, it’s plain as day ! It’s 
the old oak and its shadows on the road.” 

“I hardly believed it was as plain as that,” said 
Desdemona after a long-drawn breath of delight. “ I 
shall write to mother this very night and tell her that 
at last I begin to have some hopes of my future.” 

“ At last,” echoed Mrs. Sigourney, laughing. 
“ Why, child, we’ve been here less than a week.” 

“ I know it,” admitted Desdemona ; “ at least, I 
know it with my brain, Mrs. Sigourney, but my feelings 
are that it is a great deal longer than that since I shook 
the coal dust of our basement off my skirt for the last 
time and said good-bye to my family and friends.” 

“ That sounds so affecting that I am almost in tears,” 
said the artist, “ or else it’s hunger that is moistening 
my eyes, mother. Can’t we have luncheon before Des- 
demona is overcome by the recollection of her sad part- 
ings? I should hate to have Nancy see her with 


Desdemona 


29 


swollen eyelids, and I’m planning that we’ll go to 
Beaumont Corners to spend the afternoon, we three.” 

Desdemona’s standing in her class at school had been 
so high that it had been made possible for her to leave 
a week or more before the term was over, without any 
loss. The principal of the school had gladly consented 
after a short talk with Mr. Sigourney. 

“ It win do her good to be outdoors aU day long,” 
he had agreed with the artist. “ She’s all brain and 
fire, and a city basement is no place for a child. 
Desdemona is thinner even than usual, this spring.” 

“She’s never going back to the basement if my 
mother and I have our way,” said Mr. Sigourney. 
“We have a plan for her if it can be carried through — 
and I think it can.” 

The few days of country air and Hving had made a 
great difference in the little girl. Her cheeks would 
never have the pink which Haney’s had not lost with 
her months in the city, but they had a warm tint of 
their own, which showed in spite of the freckles with 
which her small, spirited face was plentifully be- 
sprinkled. As she walked along the country road that 
afternoon, sometimes between Mrs. Sigourney and her 
son, sometimes at one side or the other, as she 
darted across to get a closer view of some roadside 


30 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

flower or bush, her companions exchanged glances of 
amusement over her head. 

Desdemona happened to look up from her inspection 
of a laurel blossom in time to intercept one of these 
glances. 

“ Are you laughing at me ? ” she questioned. 
“ Well, I don’t care a bit if you are, for I know it must 
be funny to see me flying around so. But that’s the 
way I shall probably be all my life ; always hurrying 
to look at things first one side and then the other. Our 
art teacher at school thought I lacked concentration. 
I wonder if I do. I hope not, for then you’d regret 
having undertaken to teach me, Mr. Sigourney. But 
I couldn’t concentrate on those bulging vases we had 
to draw at school ; truly I couldn’t, Mr. Sigourney. 
Do you think that shows a great lack ? ” 

“I shan’t worry about it yet,” said the artist. “I 
shall only suggest one thing, Mona ; that is, that as you 
seem to have lifted a rather unusually heavy supply of 
the roadside dust on to your shoes, perhaps you’d like to 
walk in the grass a little way before we arrive at Beau- 
mont Corners.” 

Mercy ! how they do look ! ” cried Desdemona gaz- 
ing at her gray-white feet in dismay. “ And IN'ancy is 
such a little pinky, I always like to be as neat as pins 


Desdemona 


3 » 

when I’m with her. Should you mind walking slowly 
just a minute while I scrub these off with this large 
leaf ? I think I can do them nicely, and then I’ll 
catch up with you.” 

Mr. Sigourney and his mother walked very slowly 
for a few minutes and then, just as they reached the 
Beaumont driveway, they heard the rush of Desde- 
mona’s feet, coming through the roadside grass. Her 
face was scarlet, and her breath came in little gasps. 

“ I’ve — rubbed — them— off,” she panted, “ and — then 
— I had — to wash my hands — at the spring, and now 
I’m all right except that I caught my skirt on a black- 
berry vine. You’d be surprised to realize how narrow 
the grass place is and how the bushes reach right out 
and fasten on you. Will you please just pin over the 
torn place, so it will look like a fold that was intended, 
Mrs. Sigourney ? I alw^s have extra pins in my belts 
because I’m so unfortunate. I don’t know as there ever 
would be a fold in just such a place on one hip, with 
the other plain, would there ? Well, never mind, I 
can tuck my handkerchief in my belt — so— and let the 
end dangle down over the fold. There, doesn’t that 
look well enough, so the Admiral won’t notice it ? ” 

She was so eager and hopeful that Mrs. Sigourney 
could not help telling her the handkerchief would serve 


32 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

her purpose, though Desdemona was able to put only 
one point of it inside her belt to accomplish the desired 
result. 

“ I’ll pin it,” she said gaily, “ so it can’t possibly slip. 
There ! now I’m ready for Admiral Beaumont or any- 
body ! ” 


CHAPTER III 


TACT AND TEA 

The Admiral entertained Mrs. Sigourney on the 
porch ; Mr. Sigourney strolled about the place until he 
came upon Aunt Sylvia puUing strawberries in the 
kitchen doorway so that she might keep an eye on 
Betty and at the same time enjo}’^ the air. She cor- 
dially invited the artist to join her, after he had begged 
the privilege with due meekness, and he seated him- 
self on the old door-stone at her feet. He loved above 
all things to make Aunt Sylvia talk of “ befo’ de wah 
days.” 

While he listened to her and Mrs. Sigourney listened 
to the Admiral, JS^ancy, Desdemona and the newly 
christened Glenn were out in the garden, near the sun- 
dial, talking of many things, and listening for the sound 
of the light wagon on the road from the village, which 
would mean the return of Sylvanus with the mail. 
Desdemona had expressed her approval of the boy’s 
name with great promptness. 

“ It’s queer we never thought about your having a 
middle name,” she said. “ I haven’t any, so I never 
33 


34 The AdmiraV s Tittle Companion 

remember about it with other people. Have you a 
middle name, Haney ? ” 

“ I have several,” and Haney dimpled. “ Would you 
like to hear all of them ? My full name is Haney Eu- 
dora Cunningham Frost Beaumont.” 

“ Criekey ! ” ejaeulated Glenn. “ What’s the good 
of all those ? What made them give you so many ? ” 

“ Haney is one for one grandmother and Eudora is 
for the other,” explained Haney. ‘‘ Cunningham was 
my mother’s mother’s mother’s name, and Frost was 
her father’s name. You see they are really all family 
names.” 

“Sure,” said the boy, while Desdemona knit her 
brows, absorbed in the endeavor to remember some- 
thing. “ Well, if they’d done that way with me, tak- 
ing grandfathers in place of grandmothers my name 
would ^have been Patrick Michael O’Shaughnessy 
Glenn Donovan. It’s lucky it wasn’t ; that would 
have finished me up for the Admiral I ” 

“My name,” said Desdemona, smoothing out her 
forehead, “ would not have been Desdemona at all. It 
would have been Jane Maria Mattheson Carmichael 
Macdonald.” 

“ Good for you,” said the boy. “ I’d stick to Desde- 
mona if I were in your place.” 


Tact and Tea 


35 


“ I intend to,” said the little girl loftily. “ I’d have 
to, anyway, I guess,” she added. “ !N^ancy, don’t I hear 
wheels ? ” 

“ You do,” said hTancy. ‘‘J’ve been hearing them for 
a minute or two, but I didn’t want to interrupt what 
you and Glenn were saying. That’s the wagon with 
Sylvanus, and we can run out to the driveway and 
meet him ; then if there should happen to be a letter for 
me I can take it from him, and read it to you. We 
needn’t hurry, Glenn, for he’ll come rather slowly up 
the driveway.” 

“It seems queer for anybody to have to tell me 
about not hurrying,” said the boy. “ I never walked 
much till within the last few weeks ; I was always run- 
ning. Don’t look like that, Nancy. I’m not worry- 
ing about it. The General says I’ve run the flesh off 
my bones, and now I’ll have a chance to get some on 
again. Mrs. Leahy always said I was an awful fat 
baby.” 

When they reached the driveway, the wagon was 
not in sight, but a moment later it appeared, driven by 
Sylvanus, who sat very erect with his whip at the 
proper angle, although behind him in the wagon lay a 
bag of flour, a sack of potatoes and several large 
bundles, while a broom and a mop handle slid about 


36 The Admiral' s Little Companion 

among the other things, and a couple of tin pails rose 
and fell with a cheerful sound. 

“ Is there a letter for me, Sylvanus ? ” asked Nancy, 
as the wagon came to a halt, and Sylvanus touched his 
hat with his whip hand in what he considered a most 
elegant manner, and raised the reins somewhat higher 
as he made his salute. 

“ The entire mail is in this bag. Miss Nancy,” said 
Sylvanus, handing her the old leather bag as if it were 
by a new arrangement that the letters had been placed 
in it, whereas in reality the Beaumont mail bag had 
been used, save when Sylvanus forgot it, for many 
years ; it was indeed much older than Nancy. 

“ Oh, there are two for me,” she said delightedly, as 
she sorted the letters ; “ one from Marguerite and one 
from Jack ; and there’s one for grandfather from Jack, 
too, and one from General Compton, and one for Aunt 
Sylvia, from Mrs. Compton ; oh, she’ll be so pleased ! 
There, Sylvanus, you take all the rest up to the house, 
and when you give them to grandfather, say that I will 
be there very soon, in just a few minutes.” 

“ Certainly, Miss Nancy, I will execute your desires,” 
said Sylvanus, and with another elaborate salute he 
drove on. 

‘‘Say, where did he learn all those big words he 


Tact and Tea 


37 

uses ? ” asked Glenn, to whom the darkey was already 
a great source of amusement. Sylvanus had so far 
taken very little notice of him, but that did not trouble 
the boy in the least ; he had no feeling of importance 
and saw no reason for special favors of any kind, while 
Sylvanus, on his part, had more than a little jealousy of 
the boy who had been able to render so great a service 
to his young mistress. 

‘‘He hasn’t learned them so very well,” laughed 
Haney, “ but he does love to use them, and we can al- 
ways guess what he means when he puts in a word 
that belongs in quite another place.” 

“ He’s never looked at me, yet,” remarked Desde- 
mona as Haney opened the envelope addressed to her 
in Marguerite’s handwriting, “ but he’ll have to, some 
day, because his mother likes me. She told me she 
‘hadn’t nearly finished fetching him up’ yet,” and 
Desdemona imitated Aunt Sylvia’s tone and expression 
so perfectly that her listeners laughed. 

“ You’ve got her down fine,” said Glenn. “ I guess 
you’d be a good one for a minstrel show, Mona.” 

“ I shall never do anything of that sort,” and Desde- 
mona’s chin took its highest elevation. “ I shall never 
have any publicity except what comes from my art — 
and I don’t believe there’ll be much of that,” she added 


38 T^e Admiral's L,ittle Companion 

with one of her sudden falls to humility. “ What does 
Marguerite say, Nancy ? ’’ 

“ She says that Koger’s sore throat is almost well,” 
said Nancy, ‘‘ and that they are all coming up a week 
from yesterday. ‘ A week from to-day you’ll see us all, 
and what is better ’ Oh, that sounds too complimen- 

tary to read,” and Nancy’s cheeks took on a deeper pink. 

“ I know what she said,” remarked Desdemona ; 
“ she said, ‘ and what is better, we shall see you ’ — and 
then some very affectionate words.” 

“ I bet you’re right, I mean, probably you are,” said 
Glenn. “That’s all my bets ever mean, Nancy. I 
never had anything to bet with ; I told the Admiral 
that, and the General, and they said ‘ all right,’ or some- 
thing like that. They understand first-rate for such 
old folks.” 

“ You — you won’t ever let grandfather see that you 
think he’s old, will you, Glenn ? ” asked Nancy. “ Of 
course he knows he is, but he doesn’t like it.” 

“ Doesn’t he ? ” and the boy looked puzzled. “ I won- 
der why. All right. I’ll be careful. Say, it seems good 
to think all those Comptons are coming. They’re the 
right kind. I wish Malcolm was coming, too.” 

“ Yes, so do I,” said Desdemona, “ but of course when 
they found the camp plan was broken up on account of 


Tact and Tea 


39 


that man’s being sick, and Malcolm had the splendid 
chance to go off with his professor, it was too good to 
lose, wasn’t it, Nancy ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Nancy, “ and beside. General and Mrs. 
Compton both think it will be a good thing for Malcolm 
and Ted to be separated for a while. They think Ted 
admires Malcolm so much and tries to copy him so that 
he doesn’t do half he might on his own responsibility. 
And when Ted finds out about the camp here ” 

Nancy stopped and put her hand over her lips. 

“ I must let grandfather tell you about that,” she 
said. “ I mustn’t take the pleasure away from him. 
He means to tell you while we’re drinking tea. I won’t 
keep him waiting any longer, either, for sometimes he 
gets a little impatient.” 

Desdemona stole a cautious glance at Nancy, and 
then past her friend in an endeavor to meet Glenn’s 
eye ; but Nancy was serenely folding Marguerite’s letter, 
and the boy’s gaze was fixed on a rose-bush toward 
which they were walking. It was rather a stubborn 
and loyal gaze, Desdemona decided, and she smiled to 
herself, while she respected Glenn for it. She knew 
that in his heart the boy could not help agreeing with 
her in her opinion that “ little ” was not the word most 
people would have applied to the Admiral’s impatience. 


40 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

“ But J^ancy’s so used to it, I suppose it really seems 
little to her,” thought Desdemona. ‘‘It’s lucky for 
Admiral Beaumont he has that sweet thing for a grand- 
daughter instead of me ! Well, he’d have a good deal 
more to put up with if he had Marguerite Compton. I’m 
not the only girl that likes to speak up, if I have red 
hair ; Marguerite feels just as I do,” and Desdemona 
nodded so vigorously that l^ancy laughed. 

“Are you having one of your conversations with 
yourself, Mona ? ” she asked. “ It must be a very in- 
teresting one.” 

“ It is, to me,” said Desdemona, with a little quirk in 
her smile, “but you wouldn’t care for it, specially. 
You haven’t opened your letter from your brother, 
l^ancy. How can you wait, when you’re so crazy to 
know about his coming home ? ” 

“ Oh, I like to wait sometimes, to make things seem 
all the better,” said K'ancy demurely, but underneath 
her words lay the fact that she liked best to open Jack’s 
letters when she was with her grandfather, or some- 
times, quite alone. 

Desdemona knew this, as well as if Haney had said 
it, and she hastened her steps to match her friend’s 
hurrying feet as they neared the house. 

“ I can’t go any faster,” panted the boy, “ and you 


Tact and Tea 


4 » 

wouldn’t want to get there before me, would you, 
Kancy ? Say, have I got to drink tea ? ” 

His face wore a look of such dismay at the idea that 
his two friends laughed outright. 

“ Ho indeed, you haven’t, if you don’t like it,” said 
Haney merrily. “ And I’m sorry I forgot, and hurried 
so, Glenn. Am I walking slowly enough now ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” said the boy, “ and you just wait till I’v^e 
been here a few weeks ; you won’t have to walk slow or 
wait for me, then ! But look here, was there ever a 
boy that liked tea ? ” 

“ Why, I don’t know ” said Haney, slowly, and 

then she laughed again. “ We’ve never had a boy at a 
tea-drinking before ; you’re the very first. Once or 
twice the Compton boys have come in at about that 
time, but they always had to hurry off.” 

Glenn nodded, and gave Haney the benefit of a wide, 
appreciative smile as they reached the piazza steps. 

“ I’ll bet they did,” he said. “ They are pretty 
smart boys, those Comptons.” 

“ Well, well, my dear,” said the Admiral as Haney 
reached his side, Desdemona and Glenn pausing on the 
top step to wait for Mr. Sigourney who came hurrying 
from the direction of the kitchen, “ I had begun to 
think it was about time for our tea. Our friend Mrs. 


42 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

Sigourney must be feeling the need of it at this hour. 
Will you see that Betty brings a sufficient supply of 
everything, my dear ? She may be a little out of 
practice, as a result of her stay with Mrs. Carter, where 
her duties were quite different. Six cups will be re- 
quired this afternoon, you see.” 

“Grandfather,” said Nancy, in her most coaxing 
tone, “ it is such a warm afternoon I thought perhaps 
as we have been taking a walk we might have some of 
Aunt Sylvia’s lemonade, we three, instead of tea, after 
I had poured for you and Mrs. Sigourney and Mr. 
Sigourney — unless he would prefer lemonade, too.” 

She looked at the artist and he saw a suggestion of 
appeal for help in her eyes. Nancy knew that what- 
ever Mr. Sigourney approved would seem desirable to 
her grandfather. 

“ I feel as if lemonade would make me not only cool, 
but young again,” said the artist, “and I desire it 
above all things. Aunt Sylvia has been making me 
feel very old, Admiral Beaumont, obliging me to re- 
member things that happened a hundred years or so 
ago. If you and my lady mother would permit me to 
return to childhood for a brief period I should be most 
grateful.” 

“ Have your way, young man,” said the Admiral 


Tact and Tea 


43 


'iwith an amused chuckle, while his mother smiled at 
him indulgently and murmured, “ Foolish boy 1 ” and 
'hTancy thanked him with her eyes. 

I When the lemonade had been served to her two 
little friends and the grown-up one, however, IS'ancy 
sipped hers slowly and watched her grandfather’s 
face. 

“ Let us drink a toast to each other, madam,” said 
the Admiral, looking at his white-haired guest with a 
rather wistful smile. 

“ Please, grandfather — and Mrs. Sigourney, please 
wait just a minute until I have filled my cup,” said 
Nancy’s soft voice, speaking hurriedly, as she laid her 
little hand on the Admiral’s arm. “I find — the 
lemonade is very good, grandfather, but I miss my 
tea. Please let me join in the toast, grandfather. I’ll 
be very quick ! ” 

The Admiral looked at her, then turned to Mrs. 
Sigourney with a brightening face. 

“ You see,” he said, and he could not keep the 
gratification and pride from creeping into his old voice, 
‘‘ little Nancy is a Beaumont ; she holds to the old 
customs. Don’t hurry, my dear; Mrs. Sigourney and I 
will gladly wait for you to join us. A cup of tea can- 
not be made in haste. And it was a graceful thing. 


44 The Admiral's L,ittle Companion 

my dear, for you to deny youi'self first, to take what 
you knew would please your young guests. Your 
grandmother would have been glad to see that — very 
glad ! ” 


CHAPTEE ly 


SUMMER PLANS 

When the tea-drinking was over, Nancy was called 
upon to read her grandfather’s letters. 

“ It would perhaps be well for you to run through 
them first to yourself, before you read them aloud, my 
dear,” said the Admiral. “There can be nothing in 
them which our good friends might not hear, but there 
may be in your brother’s letters certain personal matters 
which would be of no interest save to us.” 

“ Doesn’t he talk exactly like the old fellers in Sir 
Walter Scott’s books ? ” whispered Glenn to Desdemona 
as they sat side by side on the piazza, shielded from the 
Admiral’s direct gaze by Nancy, but watching and 
listening with great respect. “ Did you ever suppose 
they talked like that in real life ? ” 

“ Mr. Sigourney says that Admiral Beaumont is the 
most wonderful relic of an aristocratic and high-born 
past he ever witnessed,” Desdemona whispered in re- 
turn. “ I try to remember every word he says on that 
account. S-sh, Nancy has moved, and he can see our 
faces now.” 


45 


46 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

There were evidently no secrets in either of Jack’s 
letters for Nancy read them both without one of the 
pauses which always show the listener where a para- 
graph or more has been hastily omitted, or altered to 
make it safe. They were written in the way which 
always pleased and amused Nancy and her grand- 
father, as Jack well knew ; one letter was a continua- 
tion of the other, so that no bit of news was repeated. 
There was only one special bit of news in the two 
letters that day, and it spread from the Admiral’s 
letter over into Nancy’s, causing the old face and the 
young one to look their best and happiest. For Jack 
was surely coming home for the sunimer. 

“He’s worked hard enough,” said the Admiral to 
the company, tapping the arm of his chair with the 
precious letter ; “ he has shown wonderful persistence 
and ability ; characteristics of his race, to be sure, but 
not wholly indigenous to his temperament.” 

Desdemona’s lips moved silently. Indigenous was a 
new and most remarkable word, and must be annexed 
to her rapidly increasing vocabulary as soon as she 
could search out its meaning in the dictionary or find 
some friend who knew it. 

“ He stated in his last letter that he had entered into 
negotiations with a view to doing some tutoring this 


Sum77ier PIutis 


47 

summer/’ continued the Admiral, “ but I am glad to 
know his plans in that direction have not matured.” 

Desdemona’s forehead was wrinkled with the inten- 
sity of her endeavor to remember everything she heard. 
Glenn sat staring at the Admiral with wide eyes. 

“ And he’s coming with the Comptons and the young 
man who is to have charge of Ted and Eoger and — oh, 
grandfather, please tell them the rest, for I’ve almost 
told it by mistake ! ” pleaded Nancy. 

“ The ‘ rest,’ as Nancy calls it, concerns a plan which 
the General has conceived and which the young man 
will assist him to execute,” said the Admiral. “ My old 
friend proposes to establish in the pine grove by the 
river a camp, for the months of July and August and 
a portion of September.” 

“ ‘ Portion,’ ” breathed Desdemona to Glenn. “ Now 
any one else would have said ‘ part.’ I must remem- 
ber that ; it’s such elegant language.” 

“ In this camp,” pursued the Admiral after a suitable 
pause, ‘‘ my friend General Compton will have a tent 
which will be occupied by him and his youngest son, 
Kichard. The boy begged earnestly for this privilege, 
and although he is of tender years, his father has de- 
cided to grant it, as his mother will always be within 
reach in this house.” 


48 T/ie Admiral' s L,ittle Companion 

“ Why, that little Dick is only a baby ! ” cried Des- 
demona, startled out of her respectful silence. 

“ The child of a military commander could scarcely 
be called that, even at the age of six,” said the Ad- 
miral in his most stately manner, and Desdemona, 
silenced though unconvinced, leaned back in her 
chair. 

“ Eoger will share the tent of the young man, whose 
name the General neglected to mention in his letter,” 
continued the Admiral, “ and he thought that you, my 
boy,” turning to Glenn, “ would enjoy sharing a tent 
with Theodore, usually called Ted.” 

Glenn’s cheeks flushed and his eyes shone. 

“ Indeed I should, sir,” he answered. “ You can 
just b ” 

He stopped short, and the Admiral chuckled appre- 
ciatively. 

“ I know what you were about to add, and I’m glad 
of it, Glenn,” he said. “ By the way, Mr. Sigourney, 
don’t you think our new name for our little friend is a 
great improvement on the old one ? ” 

Mr. Sigourney had been asked this question twice 
before during the afternoon by the Admiral, who was 
growing forgetful of many things, but on neither of 
the previous occasions had the big eyes of Patrick Glenn 


Summer' Plans 


49 

Donovan been fastened on his face. This was evi- 
dently a situation which called for tact. 

“ Admiral Beaumont,” and the artist bowed before 
his host, “any name spoken as you and my friend 
Nancy speak it is so full of music to my ears that I 
should be quite at a loss if I were asked to set one 
above another. But I will say, if I may be pardoned a 
very commonplace pun, that ‘ Glenn ’ seems a particu- 
larly appropriate name for a boy spending the summer 
at Beaumont Corners. I only wish my own might be 
changed to ‘ Dale ’ or ‘ Brook ’ for the time being.” 

“ Ah ! ” said the Admiral, turning to Mrs. Sigourney, 
“ your son has a graceful way of avoiding direct issues, 
madam,” and he smiled at the artist. “ Nancy, do you 
suppose Jack would like to be in a tent, rather than in 
the house ? He is a great lover of outdoor life, my 
dear, you remember.” 

“ Yes, grandfather,” said Nancy slowly. “Perhaps 
he would like it best. He’ll tell us when he comes ; 
there is a tent, you know, out in the barn.” 

“Well, well, there will be time enough to decide, 
when he comes,” said the Admiral. “ I forgot to men- 
tion, friends, that General Compton has engaged the 
services of a Mrs. Siren Dole— outrageous name, but a 
worthy woman, I understand, known to Aunt Sylvia — 


50 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

to cook for the camp. She will have a tent for dining 
purposes and a small stove, but she will occupy a room 
here and go to the camp in the morning, returning 
when her work for the day is over. A most satisfac- 
tory arrangement, I have no doubt. I shall not be able 
to visit the camp often, although it is but a few min- 
utes’ walk from the house, but the campers will be 
back and forth, of course — back and forth ! It will be 
very pleasant.” 

The Admiral smiled to himself as he looked down 
the slope to the orchard path, which led abruptly to the 
left at one turning and out into a broad meadow be- 
yond the wall of which was the edge of the grove of 
pines. He sat . there, still smiling, when Haney re- 
turned after saying good-bye to her friends. Glenn sat 
there, too, quite close to the Admiral, his big eyes 
raised to the clouds he never tired of watching. He 
had not spoken a word to the Admiral for fear of in- 
terrupting his thoughts, and indeed the boy himself had 
plenty to think of, without talking. The Admiral be- 
gan to nod. 

Haney seated herself on the top step of the piazza, 
and she, too, raised her eyes to the clouds. The boy 
left his chair and went to sit beside her on the step. 

“ Say, Haney, won’t your brother Jack go to the 



II wiwf U i j i imw irjaii n 








/■ m fflw i i i imn' i 




HE WILL LIKE THE THINGS YOU DO 



' ' ?:V- V'-/ V . ,-'^''!^’te44^|*%^ B-H-^ 



. feiL.T ^ 




K-&; ■ W.*?f '^'’' r' - 









Summer Plans 


51 


camp every day, even if he doesn’t stay there ? ” asked 
Glenn. “ I liked him first-rate, those times I saw him, 
and I thought — I thought there’d be lots of things he 
could tell me about, things I could do that would please 
your grandfather — of course he’d know exactly.” 

I^'ancy hesitated for a minute. With all her love 
for her brother and loyalty to him, she could not help 
knowing that there were many things to which Jack 
had given much more time and attention than finding 
out “ exactly ” what would most please his grandfather. 
But now J ack was doing his best, and — yes, there was 
surely one thing she could say. 

“ I think Jack could tell you ever so much, and he 
will, Glenn,” said I^'ancy, gently, “but there is one 
thing perhaps he would not realize. Grandfather likes 
the things Jack does, because he is Jack, and he will 
like the things you do, Glenn, because you are Glenn, 
and he likes you. Grandfather talks sometimes a little 
bit as if he thought every one ought to follow the same 
pattern, but really what he likes best of all, I think, is 
for people to be just themselves ; he likes originality, 
Glenn, though I think he doesn’t quite know it.” 

“ My, but that would make things easy,” said the 
boy. “ It’s going to be pretty tough work for me to 
be like anybody else, Nancy, no matter how hard I 


52 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

try. You see everything has been different for me, 
ever since I was born, than for any of these other 
boys the Admiral knows. What do you suppose the 
tutor’s like ? ” 

“I haven’t the least bit of an idea,” said ITancy 
thoughtfully. “ Mrs. Compton and the General wrote 
very hurried letters when they told us about him. 
Mrs. Compton only said she felt sure we would like 
him, and that they had just secured him the day she 
wrote, and the General said, ‘ He’s the one I’d have 
chosen out of a hundred ; ’ so I know they are pleased.” 

“Why wouldn’t your brother have been a good 
one?” asked Glenn abruptly. “I think he’d have 
been the best ever.” 

Nancy caught her lip between her teeth. 

“ Oh, Glenn,” she whispered, “ we mustn’t ever say 
that, out loud. I had thought of it, too ! Perhaps if 
Jack hadn’t been thinking of his other plan — to go out 
West with that rich, very stupid boy, to try to make 
him learn something — perhaps if he’d given that plan 
up sooner, he might have been the one. Let’s not 
breathe it again, ever ! I only hope grandfather hasn’t 
thought of it. We must be very careful what we say. 
Because, of course, grandfather thinks there never was 
anybody like Jack ! ” 


Summer Plans 


53 


“You cau bet on me — I mean you can be sure I 
won’t let out any of my thoughts,” whispered Glenn. 
“But say, Nancy, isn’t it queer the way things get 

mixed up ? Now here’s a camp and ” 

“ S-sh,” said Nancy, for the Admiral stirred in his 
chair and spoke. 

“ It will be a very pleasant time, my dear,” he mur- 
mured. “You have said good-bye to your friends, 
Nancy ? ” 


CHAPTER V 


A DELIGHTFUL SURPRISE 

The next <veek flew by as summer weeks are sure to 
fly for girls and boys. Nancy’s days were filled with 
happy things, like walks and talks with Glenn and 
Desdemona ; hours with dear Aunt Sylvia and Betty, 
in which they set the big old house in the best possible 
order for the guests who were to come, with many spe- 
cial touches for Marguerite’s and Jack’s rooms and for 
Mrs. Compton’s “ suite ” ; quiet hours when she read to 
her grandfather and wrote his letters, for the Admiral’s 
fingem had not quite regained their flexibility and 
strength. Best of all, there were the times when 
Nancy flew along the country roads on Jessie’s back, 
her mind and heart full of dreams and plans. 

“ Oh, Jessie, isn’t it good to be in the country, where 
there’s nothing for you to be afraid of?” Nancy said 
every day to her beloved mare. “ You and I are happi- 
est in the country, aren’t we, dear ? in spite of all the 
wonderful things there are in the city. We’re not 
sorry we went, oh, no! but how glad we are to be 
home again ! ” 


54 


A Delightful Surprise 55 

There was no doubt as to Jessie’s gladness; it showed 
in her every motion, the lift of her graceful head and 
the look in her beautiful, unfrightened eyes. The city 
had no charms for her. 

The days were a series of delightful dreams to 
Patrick Glenn Donovan, and his sensitive Irish face 
showed his surprise and pleasure at every turn. 

“ I can’t believe it’s me, sir,” he said to the Admiral, 
who smiled down at him and let his lapse from gram- 
mar pass unnoticed for once. “ I keep pinching myself 
to see if ’tisn’t a mistake — ^pinching and pinching. 
And then I keep thinking about all the little kids 
in the hospital and down where I used to live, and 
all the newsboys I know, and thinking what a lot 
I’ll have to tell ’em when fall comes. Say, Admiral, 
I wish you knew some o’ my friends ; you’d like ’em ; 
there’s half a dozen of the newsboys I know best 
that you’d take to, right off; I’m ’most sure you 
would.” 

I haven’t a doubt there are some very fine boys 
among them,” said the Admiral, who was in his most 
lenient and broad-minded mood. “I feel sure you 
would never choose for a friend a boy who had not 
many sterling qualities — such as honesty, generosity 
and truthfulness,” he added by way of explanation, for 


56 The Admiral' s Tittle Compa7iion 

Glenn looked doubtful as to what “ sterling qualities ” 
might be. 

The boy hesitated for a moment. He was sitting, 
as he liked to sit, on the top step of the piazza, hav- 
ing drawn the Admiral’s chair well forward so that 
they could talk together with ease. Glenn’s thin 
little hands were clasped behind his head and he 
leaned against one of the white fluted pillars of 
the piazza, his eyes looking straight up into the 
Admiral’s. 

“ Sometimes a boy hasn’t had a fair chance at those 
— those sterling qualities. Admiral,” he said slowly. 
“ Sometimes he comes of folks that aren’t honest and 
they don’t encourage him to be ; and sometimes if he 
isn’t truthful he can skip a lot of knocking around 
and worse that he’d get at home ; and sometimes he 
hasn’t a thing in the world to be generous with, don’t 
you see? But you can’t see, of course, because you 
never ran up against any boys like ’em. Say, Ad- 
miral, you weren’t ever hungry^ were you? I mean 
hungry so you didn’t dare to look in at the bakery 
windows, or stop near a fruit-stand ? And were 
you ever cold — so cold you didn’t feel any thicker’n 
paper ? ” 

“ Bless my heart, no,” said the Admiral, and reach- 


57 


A Delightful Surprise 

ing down lie patted the boy’s shoulder with his old 
hand. “ IS'o, I never was any of those things. I’ve no 
right to judge, boy. I’ve no right to judge ! ” 

The big Irish eyes brightened and Glenn’s wide smile 
flashed out at the Admiral. 

“ I guess I sound as if I was trying to preach to you, 
sir,” he said, “ and I wasn’t ; I was just thinking out 
loud. But when you’re cold and hungry and get 
kicked around all the time, truthfulness and honesty and 
generosity — why, they seem like just words. Admiral, 
that’s all — ^just words ! You can’t get any meaning to 
’em in your head — because your head’s too light and 
empty, that’s why.” 

“ But you held to them through everything,” said the 
Admiral after a moment’s silence. “ ITobody could 
ever make me believe you forgot the meaning of them, 
my boy.” 

I had good friends,” said Glenn coloring under the 
steady gaze, through his eyes were clear and shiny. 

I was mighty lucky, sir. Mrs. Leahy, and Terry 
Dolan, and Father Leclerc — I had a lot of good friends, 
and they kept track of me.” 

I wonder why,” mused the Admiral ; “ how did it 
happen you made such good friends ? ” 

I don’t know,” and the boy shook his head, “ except 


58 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

I was little and kind of alone, and I liked folks— I’ve 
always liked ’em — all kinds.” 

“ Ah ! ” said the Admiral, “ that may partly account 
for it. You’ve ‘ always liked folks ’ — a valuable asset 
in your chosen profession, my boy ; a valuable asset,” 
and the Admiral fell to musing again, while Glenn 
sat very still, turning his head so that his eyes saw 
the lovely slope of meadows with the purple hills 
beyond. 

For Desdemona, at the Sigourneys’ bungalow, out in 
the road, down by the brook, up in the morning before 
the dew was off the grass, lingering long after supper 
time to watch the sunset glow fade from the sky and 
to see the stars come out, sketching and studying colors 
and shadows all day long, while her face rounded with 
happiness — for Desdemona the week seemed no longer 
than a city day. 

When it had flown by and the morning came of the 
day on which the Comptons, the new tutor and Jack 
were to arrive. Aunt Sylvia, Betty and Sylvanus were 
up at dawn. Although it seemed as if there could be 
nothing left to scrub or set in order. Aunt Sylvia found 
plenty of work for both her son and Betty. 

“ I feel’s if somet’ing special was gwine to come to 
pass to-day, honey,” she said to Nancy when breakfast 


A Delightful Surprise 59 

time had come and she was making ready to leave Betty 
in charge of the meal. 

“ Something specially nice, I hope, Aunt Sylvia,” said 
ISTancy. 

“ I reckon so, my lamb,” said the old mammy cheer- 
fully. “ I don’ hab no presentings ob evil, nor my 
bones don’ feel shivery. Some good news is coming 
dis-a-way, I’s pretty certain.” 

When IS'ancy stood waiting on the platform at the 
Potterville station, she smiled, remembering Aunt 
Sylvia’s prophecy. 

“ It’s good enough news for me to know Jack is on 
the train with all the others,” Nancy told herself. 
“ There, it’s coming ! it’s coming ! ” 

She watched eagerly for the first familiar face. It 
was Marguerite’s, of course. In spite of the brakeman’s 
detaining hand, she jumped off the car and fiung 
herself on Nancy before the train had fairly stopped. 
Tumbling down as fast as they could behind her, came 
Ted, Koger and Dick. They shook hands with Nancy 
with great vigor, and then lined up beside her, their 
eyes fixed on the car, their faces filled with the light 
of anticipation. 

Then Nancy stepped forward to greet Mrs. Compton 
and the General, but even while she told them how 


6o The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

glad she was to see them her eyes wandered beyond 
them to her brother. 

“ How’s the dearest little sister in the world ? ” 
asked Jack and he stooped to kiss her while she clung 
to him and patted his sleeve. 

She turned, holding tightly to his hand, to welcome 
the tutor whom for a moment she had forgotten. 

‘‘Why, where is the young man?” she asked, bewil- 
dered by the many pairs of eyes fastened on her face. 

There was a moment’s silence, while they all looked 
at her smilingly ; then Ted gave an irrepressible laugh. 
He tried to smother it, but Haney, looking up at Jack 
as she felt his fingers tighten on hers, suddenly under- 
stood — for Jack’s free hand was extended before him 
with the index finger pointing inward to a spot in 
about the center of his broad chest. 

“ Eight this way, Haney,” he said gently. “ I’m the 
young man ! Are you disappointed not to see some one 
else?” 

But Haney’s delight was too evident for it to be 
necessary for her to put it in words. Her cheeks grew 
as pink as the pinkest rose in the garden at Beaumont 
Corners, but all she said was “ Oh ! oh ! ! oh ! ! ” 

“ Our surprise is a perfect success, I see,” said the 
General. “ W ell, Haney, if you’re half as pleased as 


A Delightful Surprise 6i 

I am, you’re pretty well satisfied. How do you think 
your grandfather will feel, eh ? ” 

“ Oh,” said Haney drawing a long breath, “ I think 
grandfather will feel that it is the most splendid thing 
that could possibly have happened. General Compton — 
but I don’t know as he will say very much ; you know 
grandfather feels things way inside, down deep, and 
they don’t always come out when you’d expect they 
would ! ” 

“That’s as true as anything you ever said, little 
girl,” and the General chuckled. “ I’ve had fifty odd 
years’ acquaintance with your grandfather, and I 
couldn’t have put the case any better myself.” 

He chuckled again when Jack explained matters to 
the Admiral on the piazza at Beaumont Corners, while 
the others stood watching to see what the old man 
would do, and hear what he had to say. But the Ad- 
miral .did very little and said less. He laid his hand 
on Jack’s [shoulder and looked at him for a moment 
in silence, then : 

“Well, my lad, I hope my friend will have no occa- 
sion to regret his choice,” said the Admiral. “ I 
wish,” and the old eyes softened as they searched the 
handsome young face, “I wish I were able to be of 
some use myself in your camp.” 


62 The Admu'al' s Tittle Companion 

But at that Nancy stole to his side and slipped her 
hand through his arm. 

“ Grandfather,” she said reproachfully, “ don’t you 
realize that if you went to that camp there wouldn’t 
be one gentleman left in the house ? Mrs. Compton 
and Marguerite and I would be all sole alone.” 

“ Sure enough,” said the old man, and he straight- 
ened himself and smiled. “ A squire of dames, that is 
my part, in these days — and a very pleasant part it 
is,” said the Admiral, bowing to Mrs. Compton and 
Marguerite, with Nancy on his arm. 


CHAPTER VI 


CAMP WIND-AWAY 

The preparations for camp began the very next day. 
Some clearing had to be done in the pine grove, and 
all the boys set to work to help with right good will. 
Even little Dick made himself useful by carrying arm- 
fuls of pine boughs so long that his sturdy little figure 
was quite hidden as he trudged back and forth between 
the wood-trimmers, and the brush-heap at the water’s 
edge. 

Before night the work of clearing was all done 
and next morning the tents were set up and fur- 
nished. 

“ How for a name,” said Jack. “ What shall we call 
it, General Compton ? ” 

“ I leave that to the young ladies,” and the General 
looked at Haney and Marguerite, who were standing, 
arms entwined, gazing at the white tents gleaming 
among the pines, in the morning sunshine. 

The two little girls had a private consultation ; then 
Marguerite spoke. 

“ Haney and I have thought of something we think 
63 


64 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

would be a beautiful name,” she said, “ but perhaps you 
won’t. Let’s say it together, iN’ancy.” 

“ Camp Wind- A way,” chanted the friends, watching 
eagerly for expressions of approval on the faces of the 
campers. 

“ Because, you see, the river winds away up and 
down-stream,” explained Nancy, “and over on the 
other side the hill road winds away up toward the sky, 
and here in the woods so many little paths wind away 
through the trees.” 

“ A capital name for it,” said the General heartily. 
“ All who are of that opinion signify it in the usual 
way. Contrary minded — I thought so, there are no 
contrary minded persons. Ladies, in behalf of the new 
Camp Wind- A way, I thank you for a most felicitous 
choice.” 

“ Do you like the name, Glenn ? ” Marguerite asked 
the boy a few moments later as she stood beside him 
looking out on the river where there now were two 
rowboats as well as Jack Beaumont’s canoe. “I 
thought you came near saying something when we 
told it, and then you shut your mouth tight. I saw 
you.” 

“ I like it first-rate,” said Glenn, decidedly. “ I was 
only going to say it sounded like Nancy, because she’s 


Camp Ind-Away 65 

always making pictures of things; but perhaps you 
are, too, and it wouldn’t have been polite, I guess, any- 
way. I shut my mouth just in time. You see I don’t 
know you as well as I know Nancy.” 

“ I’m very different,” said Marguerite seriously ; “ I 
don’t suppose there could be two persons much more 
unlike than Nancy and I. Sometimes I think there 
isn’t a great deal to understand about me, Glenn, and 
then again I feel very deep. Do you know that feel- 
ing ? Deep and sort of lonesome as if nobody knew 
your innermost thoughts ; but it never lasts very long 
with me.” 

“ I wouldn’t let it,” said Glenn in a practical tone 
that impressed Marguerite. • “ I’d light out and do 
something for somebody quick, when I felt that way. 
If you don’t you’ll get grouchy.” 

“ You have a great deal of common sense,” remarked 
Marguerite thoughtfully. “ That’s what I generally 
mean to do. Isn’t that boat pretty ? Oh, see the 
name! The Nancy! I hadn’t thought about their 
being named ! Nancy, see your namesake ! ” 

“ Come here, where you can see the name on the 
other boat,” said Nancy who stood a little distance 
away from Marguerite and Glenn. “ Marguerite seems 
to me about as pretty a name as a boat could have.” 


66 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

“I feel like the girls you read about in the news- 
paper who preside at the launching of steamships,” said 
Marguerite. “ I don’t think preside is just the word I 
ought to have used, but I mean they are very impor- 
tant. Nancy, this is one of the most important moments 
of my life. Nothing was ever named for me before ex- 
cept a Maltese kitten, and it lived only six weeks.” 

“ What is this sad tale of a short life ? ” asked J ack’s 
laughing voice as he came up behind Nancy and threw 
his arm over her shoulders. “ Am I expected to shed 
tears thus early ? ” 

“ No, indeed,” said Marguerite, who considered 
Nancy’s brother a very brilliant young man, although 
she thought, on principle, that all boys, big and little, 
needed “ taking down ” now and then ; “ no, indeed, 
it’s something you’d be much more likely to laugh at. 
I mentioned the death of a kitten that one of my 
friends had named for me,” and Marguerite lifted her 
chin. 

“ How can she think I would laugh about the death 
of a kitten, Nancy?” demanded Jack of his sister, 
gently shaking her shoulders. “ Can’t you tell her how 
fond I am of little cats? Doesn’t Julia Frost love me 
next best to you ? ” 

Marguerite tried to look dignified, but she did not 


Camp W^ind-Away 67 

succeed very well, and after a moment she broke into a 
laugh in which they all joined. 

“ I’ll tell you what is a pretty serious matter,” said 
Jack in a confidential tone to the three children. “ I 
shouldn’t wish on any account to cast any refiections on 
Mrs. Dole, for she was General Compton’s choice, but 
I tell you three privately that I’m shaking in my shoes 
at the thought that in three short hours — yes, it is 
nearly noon — in three short hours, our fate as a camp 
will be decided. If Mrs. Dole casts a disapproving eye 
on our simple preparations for life among the pines, 
and especially the dining-tent, I don’t know what will 
become of us. We can’t study, swim, row, fish and 
walk without food — ^you three know that as well as I 
do.” 

ISTancy and Glenn, who had never seen Mrs. Dole, 
laughed, but Marguerite’s face wore a thoughtful ex- 
pression. 

She’s a very notional person,” she said slowly, “and 
she isn’t so very fond of walking ; she told father that ; 
she says her feet ‘ feel’s if dey was all knuckles ’ when 
she’s walked a little way. That would be the only 
trouble. She told me she loved to see tents, and ex- 
pected to feel as if she were living ‘ right in de camp- 
meetin’ all de time,’ Anyway I don’t see how she can 


68 The AdmiraP s Tittle Companion 

possibly call the walk from the house down here 
long.” 

“ No, she couldn’t, I think,” said Nancy, “ but at 
night. Marguerite, her feet would be tired, and it’s up- 
hill, going back. Oh, I do hope she won’t mind it.” 

“Father told her it was ‘just a step,”’ said Mar- 
guerite, “ and he really thinks that’s all it is. Here 
comes father now, with the boys trailing at his heels. 
They fall all over each other seeing which can keep 
closest to him. Father, we’re just talking about your 
Mrs. Dole, and wondering if she’ll mind the walk.” 

The General smiled, and glanced at Jack with raised 
eyebrows. Jack nodded. 

“ I would, sir,” he said, while the children stared in 
bewilderment at this mysterious exchange of ideas. 
“ It’s a good time, I think.” 

“ Not too soon ? ” inquired the General, enjoying his 
little byplay. “ It hasn’t come, you know.” 

“ But to-morrow is not far away,” said Jack. 

“Oh, father, tell us!” cried Marguerite. “Please 
tell us ! ” 

“Very well,” said the General, “I 3rield to the ad- 
vice of Captain Jack. There is now on its way here — 
what do you suppose is on its way here, Nancy and 
Marguerite ? ” 


Camp Wind- Away 69 

“ Father ! we can’t guess ! ” and his small daughter 
clutched his arm. “ With all the things that might be 
coming, donH make us guess ! Well, I’ll guess one 
thing, just to hurry you. I guess a Polar bear. 
Guess, ISTancy, quick ! ” 

“ I guess a rhinoceros,” said Nancy, thus adjured. 
“ That’s all I can think of, in a hurry. General Comp- 
ton.” 

“ I don’t consider that you are playing fair, young 
ladies,” said the General in his most military tone, 
while Glenn watched him with his wide smile, and the 
Compton boys stood with their eyes fixed on their fa- 
ther’s face, “ but I will be generous. There is now on 
its way here a — portable — house.” 

“ A what ! ” cried Nancy and Marguerite, and the 
three Compton boys in chorus. 

But Glenn’s smile widened and his eyes sparkled in 
his thin little face. 

“ I’ve seen ’em,” he said, as he caught the General’s 
glance. “ At a fair once they had some, and I looked 
’em all over. They’re great ! ” 

“ What are they like, and what is one coming here 
for ?” demanded Marguerite. “ Father, if you were in 
a battle, you’d never be so slow about firing ! If you 
had been, you’d never have got beyond being a private ! 


70 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

And here are Nancy and I, just dancing with impa- 
tience ! Well, of course I’m the only one that’s hopping 
up and down, father, but just look at Nancy’s eyes ! ” 

The General looked, as he was bidden, and smiled at 
Nancy. 

“ Her eyes are rather on the dancing order. I’ll 
admit,” he said. “ The portable house is to be set up 
in the pines, not far from Camp Wind- A way — in fact, 
just in that clearing you see at the end of the right 
hand path.” 

“ There ! I wondered why you spent so much pains 
over that,” said Marguerite. 

“ It has three rooms,” said the General in response 
to Nancy’s eager, questioning eyes. “ One prett}^ good 
sized and two smaller ones. With it is also coming a 
little oil-stove of a new, highly approved pattern. My 
idea was that the largest room would be a sort of play^ 
housekeeping room for two little girls I know, to which 
they would perhaps occasionally ask a friend or two ; 
and the smaller rooms would serve for bedrooms, one 
for Mrs. Dole’s constant use, the other for the two 
little girls if some moonlight night they were invited 
and allowed to stay in the woods.” 

“Father, you certainly are the dearest thing that 
ever was ! ” cried Marguerite, as she fell upon the 


Camp IVitid-Away 71 

General, and hugged him. “ Did you think of it all 
yourself, or did mother help ? ’’ 

“Your mother always helps,’’ said the General, “but 
in this case I really was the one who thought of it first. 
Look out now, don’t smother me ! ” 

Marguerite left her father and flew to Nancy. 

“We’ll make Mrs. Dole teach us how to do all sorts 
of things, Nancy dear,” she said, swinging her friend’s 
hand. “ And we can give parties ; small ones, of course, 
and sit there to mend the clothes. Oh, Nancy, I shall 
have a great deal more to mend than you ! Do you sup- 
pose you’d help me with the holes in Koger’s stockings ? 
I’ve heard mother say they’re perfectly awful, and I’m 
not a very good darner.” 

“ I’ll do all the darning. Marguerite, if you’ll read to 
me while I’m doing it,” said Nancy, and Marguerite 
made the promise joyfully. 

When they had gone back to the house for dinner, 
and Nancy was brushing her hair in her room. Aunt 
Sylvia came in the door with a basket of clean clothes 
which she proceeded to fold and put away in Nancy’s 
bureau. Her face wore a very solemn expression, and 
she gave several heavy sighs. 

“ Please, what is the matter, Aunt Sylvia ? ” begged 
Nancy, detaining her old mammy as she started to 


72 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

leave the room. ‘‘ Has anything gone wrong ? After 
dinner I want to have a long talk with you, before 
Mrs. Dole comes, and tell you of the lovely surprise 
General Compton has planned for Marguerite and me.” 

“ You mean dat take-to-pieces house I jes’ heerd 
about from Koger Compton ? ” inquired Aunt Sylvia 
gloomily. “ Dat house whar you’s gwine spend all yo’ 
time from mornin’ till night, an’ dat Dole pusson along 
dere wid you and Miss Marg’rite ? I’s heerd all ’bout 
it, honey. Well, I reckon de Admiral and Mis’ Gen’l 
Compton will hab some mighty lonesome times, dat’s 
what I reckon. Don’ make much diff ’ence when a pus- 
son gets to be mos’ a hundred, same as I am, den you 
’spects to hab ebery t’ing pass by an’ leave you ’lone ; 
but Mis’ Gen’l Compton ain’ so ole, and ” 

“ Oh, dear Aunt Sylvia, stop ! stop ! ” cried Haney, 
between laughing and crying, for she always took her 
old mammy’s jealous twinges greatly to heart. “Why, 
we’re only going down there for play, just as we go out 
in the garden ; and you’ll have to help us ; and Mrs. 
Compton will go every day, of course ; and there will 
always be some one of us here so grandfather Tvon’t be 
lonely. And one of the things I pictured in my mind 
was that you’d sit there with your work, under the 
pines, often, while we were playing.” 


73 


Camp W^ind-Away 

“M-m,” said Aunt Sylvia, her face breaking into 
smiles, her hands raising the empty clothes-basket to 
her head and balancing it there. “ M-m.” 

She folded her arms and, head erect, marched through 
the door. 

“ Mebbe Mr. Sigourney like to make anudder picture- 
po’trait o’ me out in de wood,” she said gaily. “ I’m 
’spectin’ he may, fo’ Mis’ Gen’l Compton say she like 
firs’-rate to hab one. We’ll see. M-m.” 


CHAPTER VII 


AN OLD STORY 

IN'o greater contrast to Aunt Sylvia could well have 
been imagined in a woman of her own race than that 
presented by Mrs. Dole. When she arrived with Syl- 
vanus the Admiral gave one look at her and sank back 
in his chair. 

“ Bless my heart ! What’s the matter with the 
woman ? ” he demanded before the newcomer, con- 
voyed by Aunt Sylvia, had passed beyond hearing. 
“ Has she lost all her relatives and friends ? What’s 
the meaning of that great black bonnet, and that 
funereal shawl ? ” 

Sylvanus, who stood grinning at the foot of the steps 
waiting for some commission from Haney, seemed to 
think the Admiral’s question was addressed to him. 

“ She’s had a superfluity of bereavements, Admiral,” 
he explained, “ and she has a great accumulating of 
mourning garments, she told me, and this summer 
would be a most adventitious time to wear some of them 
out, for she is looking toward further matrimony next 
October, Admiral.” 


74 


75 


An Old Story 

“ Is she ? ” and the Admiral’s tone expressed the 
greatest and most unflattering wonder. “ Well, well ! 
I pity the man. Her expression matches her clothes.” 

It proved, however, that Mrs. Dole’s expression was a 
mere overlay, like her garments. She was really pos- 
sessed of a cheerful and determined spirit, and she and 
Aunt Sylvia were heard laughing together within a 
very few minutes. At the end of an hour when Aunt 
Sylvia had given her an excellent dinner and a great 
deal of advice, Mrs. Dole presented herself before Mrs. 
Compton with the announcement : 

“ Now, I’s ready. Mis’ Gen’ral, to go see dat camp. 
I’s been told I’s gwine to stay dar, in some kind ob a 
house, an’ I likes to see it right away, so if I ’cides it’s 
too lonesome, I kin kite back whar I come from, an’ 
you kin secure somebody else.” 

“ Oh, I’m sure you won’t think it’s lonesome at all, 
Mrs. Dole,” said Mrs. Compton. “ We will walk down 
to the camp with you now. Come, Marguerite, find 
Nancy and ask if she’s ready to go with us.” 

Nancy was reading to her grandfather who was be- 
ginning to fall asleep, but she shook her head at 
Marguerite who made signs to her from the doorway. 

“ By and by,” Nancy’s lips formed silently over the 
top of the newspaper, as she rattled its pages to gain a 


76 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

moment’s time, without rousing her grandfather ; until 
he was very sound asleep he always waked if the still- 
ness came which showed that Nancy thought her task 
was over. 

All the rest of the children were down at the camp 
with Jack Beaumont while the General was taking a 
walk along the river’s edge, selecting likely spots for a 
fisherman to pass a pleasant hour if he were not in any 
haste to catch fish. The brook which tumbled along 
at one side of the pine grove was the place to catch 
trout, the General knew, but it did not offer such 
tempting banks ; its low growing trees and shrubs were 
not designed to accommodate fishermen of the Gen- 
eral’s build. 

Aunt Sylvia put her arm through Mrs. Dole’s as the 
party entered the woods, and held it tightly there as 
they went along the pretty winding path, and at last 
came out to the big clearing. 

“ Now I’s gwine say a few words. Siren Dole, ’fore 
you speak up an’ say anyt’ing you’ll be sorry ’bout, 
when it’s too late,” said Aunt Sylvia. “ I’s gwine tell 
you dat dis is de bes’ located spot fo’ tenting, an’ dese 
are de bes’ made an’ mos’ expensive tents dar is on de 
■ market, an’ de folkses dat’s gwine be in ’em is de fines’ 
quality in de land, an’ de opp’tunity ob de privileges 


77 


An Old Story 

to wait on sech folkses an’ cook fo’ dere appetites an’ 
wash dere clothes, is one dat you won’t find anywhar 
else in de whole worl’ ; an’ — an’ co’se if you don’ 
act right, dey will be jess nachelly ’bleeged to hand de 
opp’tunity ob de privileges to somebody else. Now, 
Siren Dole — is you got anyt’ing to say ? ” 

Mrs. Dole’s mouth opened in a smile which showed 
two rows of white teeth. She stood with her arms, one 
of which Aunt Sylvia still firmly clutched, folded on 
her breast ; over her black gown she wore a black and 
white striped apron which had a deep ruffle at its 
lower edge, ruffles for shoulder straps, and volumi- 
nous strings. Her eyes roamed over the scene as she 
spoke. 

“ ’Long as you’s condescended to stop yo’ boasting,” 
she said in a soft, agreeable drawl, “ I will make bold 
to tell Mis’ Gen’ral dat I feel like I’d be at home hyah 
right from de first, an’ I’s all ready to take hold an’ 
begin. If dose rolls o’ cyarpet is gwine on de tent 
flo’s. Mis’ Gen’ral, shan’t I beat ’em up a spell ? I see 
a rattan beater over yonder.” 

She detached herself from Aunt Sylvia and darted 
over to the pieces of carpeting which she unrolled and 
proceeded to belabor with the beater until Mrs. Comp- 
ton and Marguerite fied to the General’s tent to escape 


78 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

the dust. Ted, Eoger and Dick were all in there, tack- 
ing pictures on the canvas with little skill but great 
energy. 

“ Do you believe father’ll want all those things to 
look at ? ” asked Marguerite, but her mother shook her 
head at her behind the boys’ backs. 

“ I see you’ve selected battle scenes and pictures of 
horses,” she said, as she walked around the tent. “ You 
chose just what your father always speaks of in the 
magazines, I know.” 

“ Yes, mother,” said Eoger, eagerly, “ we did. We 
got all the warlike pictures we could find, and all the 
horses that looked as if they might have gone to war.” 

“ Eeal spirited ones, he means, mother,” said Ted 
who was struggling with a heavy pasteboard on which 
were mounted three grenadiers. “ And I knew he’d 
like these soldiers. When this is all done we’re going 
to put the pictures that are left in the other tents, but 
it doesn’t matter so much about them, because none of 
the rest of us have ever been in the war, so we shan’t 
miss the real surroundings, the way father will.” 

“ I see,” said Mrs. Compton with a nod of under- 
standing. 

“ And he’ll tell me stories about them all, mother, 
when I’m going to sleep,” said Dick. “ ’Less I should 


79 


An Old Story 

go to sleep before he’s ready to come to bed,” he added 
with a sudden remembrance that it was not the Gen- 
eral who had told him stories at bedtime. “ Shall you 
ever be down here, mother, ’bout the time when I’m 
going to sleep ? ” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder a bit if I were here very often 
about that time,” said Mrs. Compton, as she smiled 
down at the wistful little face raised to hers. “ It’s 
such a pleasant time to tell stories to a little boy about 
six years old.” 

“ Then thaCs all right,” and Dick gave his mother a 
bear’s hug of gratitude. “ Glenn went off with Jack, 
and I should think they’d be coming back by this time. 
They went to the spring to get a drink. Jack said 
Glenn must drink at the spring for an inish — an inishy- 
nation, mother, I think he said. He meant so Glenn 
would be like all the rest of us that have drunk that 
spring water,” Dick explained, thinking his mother 
might not quite understand his very large word, so 
lately acquired. 

“ That’s thoughtful of J ack,” said Mrs. Compton. 
“ I know you three will do all you can to make Glenn 
have a happy summer,” and she looked with loving 
trust at her sons. 

“ ’Course we will, mother,” came in a strong chorus. 


8o The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

Marguerite, who had been reconnoitering, now ap- 
peared again with the word that Nancy was coming 
along the path, for she had blown the little silver 
whistle which the General had given her, and which 
was exactly like one which hung from Marguerite’s 
chain. The two friends used them for hailing each 
other from a distance and valued them highly. Desde- 
mona’s throat served her so well that she had no need 
of a whistle, though she admired Nancy’s and Mar- 
guerite’s very much, and tuned her own call to match 
the notes given by the little silvery ones. 

When Nancy had been shown the picture gallery 
and had complimented Mrs. Dole on the freshened car- 
pets, she asked where Jack and Glenn had gone. 

Let’s take the path to the spring and find them,” 
she suggested. “ They must have stopped on the way. 
Oh, I wonder if Jack took his hatchet when they 
started. Did any of you notice ? ” 

“ Yes, I did,” said Koger ; “ he took his hatchet, and 
he told me he might ‘ bring back many a sapling young.’ 
I don’t know whether that’s a quotation ; is it, 
Nancy ? ” 

“ I think not,” laughed Nancy ; ‘‘ it’s just what Aunt 
Sylvia calls ‘ fun talk.’ But I shouldn’t wonder one 
bit if Jack had taken Glenn to Pirates’ Kock. I’d for- 


8i 


An Old Story 

gotten all about it, for it’s so long since Jack and I 
have been there, and the woods have grown up around 
it.” 

“ What is Pirates’ Kock ? ” demanded the boys in 
chorus. 

“ Why, they called it that because when my grand- 
father was a little boy his grandfather used to tell him 
a story about a young man whom he — great-great- 
grandfather — knew years before grandfather was born. 
He was a relative of the people who used to live in a 
house near the place where the Sigourneys’ bungalow 
stands, and he came from across the seas. Great-great- 
grandfather used to tell grandfather that the young 
man was very dark, with black curling hair, and black 
eyes and a very iiery temper ; and he had been a good 
many voyages with his father, who was a sea-captain, 
but not an honest one, great-great-grandfather was 
sure, from what he heard people say, half under their 
breaths. They called him Pirate Kildare.” 

“ I never heard anything more exciting,” said Mar- 
guerite, as Nancy paused. “ And was the young man 
a real pirate, afterward, like his father ? It all sounds 
so old and like a story ! ” 

“ Oh, I’m not sure even that his father was one. Mar- 
guerite,” said Nancy hastily ; “ it was only that people 


82 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

called him so, because they knew he was not kind, and 
not really honest, and they thought his money had 
come too fast, great-great-grandfather said. He stayed 
only one year in this country, and did some mysterious 
sort of business that nobody understood about, and 
then he sailed away, taking his son with him, and his 
relatives here never saw or heard of him again. But 
before he went away for good he came to Beaumont 
Corners, and his relatives brought him to call on great- 
great-grandfather, and he thanked him for being 
friendly to his son. For none of the other young men 
had liked young Foster Kildare — that was his name — 
so great-great-grandfather had been sorry for him and 
tried to make him feel at home. And Pirate Kildare 
had asked to be shown the rock which had been a 
favorite place where his son and great-great-grand- 
father had sat often, and talked together, and looked 
down the river, for in those days these trees were not 
as tall and thick as they are now, and you could see 
the river plainly. 

And Pirate Kildare said,” — Kancy could not help 
enjoying the knowledge that each and every member 
of her little audience was hanging on her words, as she 
made an impressive pause in the story she had heard so 
many times, — Pirate Kildare said, ‘ Call this Pirates’ 


Alt Old Story 83 

Eock, young man ! It would please me, and some day 
before long, you’ll be glad you did it. Is it a bargain V 
And he looked at great-great-grandfather with a smile, 
but not a pleasant one to see, grandfather has told me, 
for great-great-grandfather showed him how Pirate 
Kildare smiled, and grandfather showed me.” 

“Show us, Kancy, can’t you?” begged Ted, but 
Kancy shook her head. 

“ I couldn’t possibly,” she said, “ but probably Des- 
demona could, if grandfather showed her, for she can 
do such wonderful things with her face.” 

“ Get him to show her, please, Kancy ! ” begged the 
boys, but Kancy laughed. 

“I’m afraid perhaps grandfather doesn’t quite re- 
member the story now,” she said ; “ he hasn’t told it to 
me for a long time. But Jack and I used to go there 
and sit on the rock and wonder what Pirate Kildare 
meant by saying great-great-grandfather would be glad 
some day. Of course Jack was almost grown up and 
I was only a very little girl, but we talked about it. I 
used to think that perhaps some day we should find a 
buried treasure there, and I thought it would be gold 
pieces in leather bags, and flashing gems, like the treas- 
ure in fairy stories. But, although I had a little spade 
and dug all around, and tried to find the treasure, I 


84 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

never could. Jack didn’t believe in it — he always 
laughed. Although ’’ 

‘‘ Oh, Nancy, ‘ although ’ what ? ” asked Marguerite 
eagerly. “Do finish.” 

“ Although some of the darkies always said, as long 
as they lived, that that night, after Pirate Kildare had 
been here, there were lanterns down in the woods near 
the rock,” said Nancy slowly, “ and they never would 
go near the rock afterward, if they could help it, for 
they said there had been ‘ pirate doings ’ there. And 
the very day after, the rock was struck by lightning 
and a big piece of it was split from one side and wedged 
into the opening that great-great-grandfather and Foster 
Kildare had called the cave, so the darkies were more 
frightened than ever. They said the rock was — was 
cursed ! ” 

“ Of course Aunt Sylvia doesn’t believe things like 
that,” said Koger, half inquiringly. “ She’s too sensi- 
ble.” 

“ Dear Aunt Sylvia, of course she’s very sensible,” 
said Nancy, “but — I haven’t ever asked her if she 
believed that, Eoger,” and she looked at him rather 
wistfully. 

“’Course I won’t ask her, Nancy,” said Koger 
loyally. “I think ’most everybody believes some 


An Old Story 85 

things that aren’t so sensible as other things. Shan’t 
we hurry up and start now, for fear we’ll miss Jack 
and Glenn ? You’ve been very interesting,” he added 
handsomely. “ And I don’t see how you ever keep all 
your different sets of grandfathers straight in your 
head, Nancy, truly I don’t ! ” 

Oh, I’m more used to stories about them than any- 
thing else,” laughed Nancy, as they started along the 
path. “ I could tell you about two more generations, 
still farther back, and not get them mixed — but I won’t 
do it to-day, Koger ! ” 


CHAPTER YIII 


“calm and moderate” 

Nancy led the way through the woods, winding in 
and out until at last they came to a place where it was 
evident that some one had lately used a hatchet ; there 
were branches of shrubs freshly cut, lying on the ground, 
and at a little distance there were two bending figures, 
plainly to be seen through the leaves of some low- 
growing trees. This was at the edge of the wood 
near the river, and some maples had crept in among 
the pines. 

“ They’re cutting a path up to the rock,” whispered 
Nancy. “ Let’s all whistle together, and see how sur- 
prised they will be.” 

There arose on the air such a shrill sound, com- 
pounded of two silver whistles, and three sets of fingers 
placed close to boys’ lips that the bent figures straight- 
ened suddenly and two laughing faces peered through 
the leaves. 

“Turn sharp to your left and you’ll find we’ve 
cleared a place,” called Jack. “ You’ve stolen a march 
on us, for Glenn and I meant to have the path open 
86 


^^Calm and Moderate" 87 

down to the river, and then bring all of you here for a 
surprise.” 

“ Has Glenn been using a hatchet, really^ Jack ? ” 
asked Haney. “I’m afraid he ought not to have 
touched it.” 

“ He hasn’t let me cut anything but easy little 
branches, nothing more than twigs, Haney,” said Glenn 
quickly; “and say, you mustn’t forget I’m growing 
strong fast, and getting up muscle. I don’t want to be 
a baby boy any longer than I have to.” 

“ There’s no fear of any one’s mistaking you for a 
mollycoddle, Glenn,” and Jack laid his hand on the 
boy’s shoulder. “You go slowly for a little while, 
and before the summer’s over Ted and I will have to 
be looking out for our laurels.” 

“ That’s so,” agreed Ted promptly, and the color 
which had risen high in Glenn’s thin cheeks subsided. 
“ Glenn will be what Aunt Sylvia calls a ‘ right-down 
driver ’ for all sorts of outdoor work, I know.” 

“ You just let me get my strength back and I’ll keep 
up with the rest of you,” said Glenn ; “ that’s aU I 
want to do.” 

Marguerite had gone quite close to the big rock, 
which was really a ledge, and was walking around it, 
examining it curiously. 


88 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

“ I see the place where the piece was split off,” she 
announced, “and I see the piece, wedged in, so it 
closes the mouth of the cave ; but I should call it a 
pretty small cave, Nancy. Do you think your great- 
great-grandfather and Foster Kildare ever really went 
inside it ? ” 

“No, I don’t suppose they did,” admitted Nancy, 
“for they were both almost men then, seventeen or 
eighteen years old; but great-great-grandfather used 
to crawl in there when he was a boy, and sit there 
listening to the rain, when it stormed. He loved it ; 
and he used to keep a tin box near the mouth of the 
cave with cookies and other things in it, so that he and 
Foster Kildare could have luncheons when they were 
in the woods together. They both liked outdoors 
much better than indoors, and that was one thing that 
made them friends.” 

“Just the way it is with you and me,” and Mar- 
guerite put her arm around her friend. “ Nancy, why 
didn’t you ever tell me about Pirates’ Eock before ? ” 

“I forgot about it,” said Nancy frankly. “You 
know we had so many, many things to do when you 
visited us the first time, Marguerite, and the next time 
it was winter, and I hadn’t been here for five or six' 
years.” 


*‘^Calm and Moderate” 


89 

“ I’ll forgive you, so long as it was not intentional,” 
said Marguerite. “Nancy, do look at Eoger. I be- 
lieve he’s trying to see into the cave ! And look at 
Dick, copying him. Aren’t boys funny ? ” 

“ I was wondering about that tin box,” said Roger 
to Jack, a moment later. “ If there were any biscuit or 
cookies left in it, don’t you suppose they’ve ossified ? ” 

Glenn’s eyes opened very wide at this. He wished 
for Desdemona and her phonographic memory. 

“I’ll find out what that means before night,” he 
promised himself, “but seems to me there are more 
things I don’t know about than I thought there were.” 

He said it to J ack when they walked back to the 
camp, a little while after Nancy’s search party had 
discovered them. 

“ I don’t believe I’ll ever catch up,” Glenn told his 
new and greatly admired friend. “You see all this 
time when the Comptons and boys like them were 
studying out of books, I’ve been running the streets, 
selling papers, and doing all kinds of things they never 
heard of. What I learned in night-school was all right, 
o’ course, but ’twasn’t any fancy education, Mr. Jack, I 
can tell you that. ’Twas just the plainest, every-day 
reading, writing, geography, and things like that, that 
I’d got to know or else I couldn’t ever be anything 


go The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

more’n a newsboy. But when I hear a kid like Eoger 
say a word like ossified, and say it in the right place, 
why, that’s when I see how green I am.” 

“ It’s my private opinion,” said Jack Beaumont in a 
matter-of-fact tone, “ that you’ve learned some things 
in your newspaper, hospital, restaurant, self-supporting 
and lodging, night-school and curbstone career, that 
are fully as valuable as, and a good deal harder to learn 
than the meaning of ossified, or any other word. But 
I’ll tell you what we’ll do — we’ll have a dictionary 
study class for half an hour every day this summer, 
you and I, and if the other boys wish to join it, they 
may. There are several hundred, not to say thousand 
words in the dictionary of which I don’t know the 
meanings, though of course you’d never suspect it from 
my fluent conversation,” he added with a laugh. 

“ ITo, I shouldn’t,” said Glenn humbly ; “ I supposed 
you knew just about all the words there are. That’s 
the way you sound. You don’t use a lot of big ones, 
but you sound so free, as if you could say anything you 
liked, the way Mr. Sigourney does; he’s a — he has 
fluent conversation too.” 

“ Oh, he’s ’way beyond me,” said Jack easily, “ for 
he knows a lot of art terms that are just like Greek to 
me. You can probably get all those from Mona Mac- 


^^Calm and Moderate” 91 

donald. I don’t believe anything will slip by her 
unnoticed.” 

“ She’s a smart girl,” said Glenn, “ and she says she’s 
going to be a big artist some day ; seems to think all 
she has to do is make up her mind and never stop 
working till she gets there ; maybe she’s right, too.” 

I shouldn’t wonder a bit if she were,” assented Jack, 
“so long as she has talent as well as perseverance. 
She’s a very interesting little girl. She’ll be crazy 
over the portable house, I know, for she likes play as 
well as work.” 

His words were certainly verified two days later 
when Desdemona, hurrying up to the Beaumont house, 
was waylaid by Haney and Marguerite, and carried off 
in triumph to the woods. 

“ I didn’t come to visit the camp to-day,” she pro- 
tested, as the tents came into view. “ I had a message 
for the Admiral from Mrs. Sigourney and I can’t stop 
long, for we’re going to paint — oh, Haney Beaumont 
and Marguerite Compton, where did that lovely, darling 
little house come from ? ” 

The children explained to her, talking as fast as they 
could, and Desdemona listened delightedly. She was 
more than ever charmed when, on entering the little 
living-room, there sat the Admiral in a comfortable 


92 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

armchair, looking as if he had come to stay, for J ack 
had persuaded him to take the walk by slow degrees, 
with the General on one side and his grandson on the 
other. 

“ They have made arrangements so that I shall be 
able to drive back to the house, by Sylvanus’s making 
a detour about the woods,” said the Admiral, as he 
graciously responded to Desdemona’s enthusiastic greet- 
ing, “ and I find Nancy will be more contented to come 
here now that she knows I can be made comfortable 
on mild, sunny days. General Compton had such 
pleasure in providing the house that I should not wish 
to have him disappointed in any way about it.” 

“No, sir,” said Desdemona respectfully, while her 
memory registered “detour” for reference later on, 
“ of course you wouldn’t. And beside, don’t they say 
pine woods are splendid for rheumatism — or is it tuber- 
culosis ? ” 

The Admiral chuckled, as he looked at her, standing 
there, her red hair gleaming in the sunlight that 
streamed in through the open door. Her cheeks had a 
faint tinge of pink, and her eyes had grown almost 
black, as they had a trick of doing when Desdemona 
was excited. 

“ That’s one thing I haven’t, my dear,” said the Ad- 


^^Calm and Moderate'" 


93 


miral in his most amiable tone ; “ my lungs are as good 
a pair as you’d find if you searched the country over. 
I have the doctor’s authority for saying so, as well as 
my own. But I don’t know why the pine woods 
shouldn’t be good for rheumatism, they and the fir- 
balsams combined.” 

“Oh, if there are fir-balsams, may I have a little, 
just a little to make a weeny pillow to sleep on ? ” 
begged Desdemona. “Just a few little twigs would 
do for me. Admiral, and I’d leave the needles on the 
wood, even if it did stick into me. It’s just that I 
long to smell that deliciousness ! I’ve wished for a bal- 
sam pillow all my days, but the cheapest we ever saw 
were fifty cents without any cover, and you can 
imagine mother letting me pay fifty cents for anything 
that wasn’t an absolute necessity ! But now I have a 
little piece of pongee, and I could paint a spray of bal- 
sam on it, and ‘ Sleep Well,’ or some restful sentiment 
like that, and it would be my greatest treasure. May 
I, Admiral ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, child,” said the old man quickly. “ And 
don’t wear your soul out over trifles. You’re too in- 
tense in your feelings about unimportant things. Learn 
to be calm and moderate, my child ; calm and moder- 
ate. Nancy, where do you suppose Sylvanus is, with 


94 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

the afternoon mail already fifteen minutes behind his 
usual time for bringing it ? It is outrageous for him 
to loiter so ; outrageous ! Go to the end of the path, 
my dear, and see if there are any signs of him.” 

Desdemona looked at the Admiral and opened her 
mouth as if to speak, but at the moment Marguerite 
clutched her by the arm. 

Come over here, and see our cooking stove, Mona,” 
said Marguerite, and when they had reached it, she 
said in a tragic whisper : 

“Never say what I know was on the tip of your 
tongue, Mona, just as it’s on the tip of mine a dozen 
times a day ! The Admiral never would forgive us for 
what he’d think was impertinence — and I suppose it 
would be, really, because he’s so many times older than 
we are, and Nancy’s feelings would be dreadfully hurt ; 
because she loves him, just the way he is, Mona ; when 
he’s cross and inconsistent, she loves him just as much 
as when he’s gentle and pleasant.” 

“ He’s a fine old gentleman, of course,” said Desde- 
mona reluctantly, “ but, Marguerite, do you think he’s 
gentle and pleasant quite as often as he might be, if 
some one explained to him how he seems the rest of 
the time ? I approve of frankness, don’t you ? ” 

“ I do when it’s necessary,” said Marguerite, “ but 


*'^Calm and Moderate'^' 


95 


I’ll tell you one thing, Mona, and that is that if you 
start out with the idea of telling people unpleasant 
truths when it isn’t an absolute necessity, you’ll be 
dreadfully unpopular, and you’ll spend half your time 
being sorry for what you’ve said.” 

“ All right,” said Desdemona agreeably, “ I’ll think 
it over. I won’t express my mind to the Admiral yet a 
while anyway,” she added mischievously. “ I’ll let my 
duty ‘ wait over a spell,’ as mother says about the wash- 
ing on rainy Mondays, and perhaps I shall find it isn’t 
my duty at all. At any rate I wouldn’t do anything 
to hurt ^Nancy’s feelings for the world. Show me 
again how that stove-lid lifter works, please. I shall 
write mother about that to-morrow. And then I want 
to go outside and look at the house again, from the 
path. I think there’s a place where I could stand and 
paint it, with Nancy and you sitting in the doorway, in 
the sunlight ; and then I could do it again by moonlight 
some night, if Mrs. Sigourney wmuld let me come. You 
two could be standing in that picture, looking up into 
the sky. Of course your features wouldn’t be clear 
enough for any one to tell who you were, but it would 
make a very romantic, interesting picture.” 

“ Can you paint moonlight ? ” asked Marguerite with 
unusual respect in her tone. 


g6 The Admiral's Little Companion 

“ I’ve never tried,” admitted Desdemona, “ but I’ve 
no doubt I can learn, with practice; Mr. Sigourney 
could teach any one to paint anything, I’m sure. 
Let’s go out and look at the house, and see if IS'ancy’s 
coming back. There ! I hear her whistle ! She must 
have met Sylvanus, and now the Admiral will be calm 
and moderate — calm and moderate,” and Desdemona’s 
witch-like face took on such a semblance of the Ad- 
miral’s that Marguerite had to choke her laughter with 
her handkerchief, before Nancy appeared, her arms 
clasping the worn old mail-bag which was stuffed al- 
most to the point of bursting. 

Nancy blew her whistle and stopped beneath a giant 
pine. 

“ First United States mail delivery for Camp Wind- 
Away,” she called in her clear, sweet voice, and blew 
her whistle the second time. 

Every one in the camp had a letter ; some of the boys 
had two, and “ Captain ” Jack had half a dozen. 

“ Invitations to go to places for week-ends, and one 
for a week’s yachting,” he told Nancy, tossing her the 
letters one after another as he read them. “ Yery kind, 
all of them, but nobody lures me away from my work 
this summer, little sister, not for one twenty-four 
houre.” 


^’•Calm a7id Moderate” 


97 


They were sitting side by side on the platform which 
served as piazza for the little house. Not far away the 
Admiral and the General were talking over the day’s 
news together. Ted, Koger and Dick had a letter from 
Malcolm spread on the pine-needles before them, and 
were laughing over the marginal illustrations. Under 
one of the pines, leaning against its big trunk, sat Mar- 
guerite, Desdemona and Glenn ; the boy was reading 
aloud a letter, a Eound-Eobin, sent by the nurses in his 
beloved Children’s Hospital. In the dining tent Aunt 
Sylvia and Mrs. Dole were having a conference. On a 
rustic bench down by the river’s edge sat Mrs. Comp- 
ton, her white dress flecked with sunlight and shadows. 

“ Jack — is it — is it just work to you ? ” asked Nancy 
wistfully. “ You ought to have play, too, in the sum- 
mer, like all the rest of us.” 

“ Bless your little heart,” said Jack, taking her hand 
in both of his and squeezing it gently, “ it’ll be play as 
well as work, and the best sort of play. This summer 
will be the making of me, Nancy.” 

But his little sister shook her head, and nestled closer 
to him. 

“ You don’t need any ‘ making of,’ ” she said in- 
dignantly. You’re just the very best way you could 
be, to suit me ! ” 


CHAPTER IX 


THE AET CLASS 

It was not all play, by any means, at Camp Wind- 
Away, in spite of Jack’s statement to Nancy. From 
ten o’clock until twelve every morning in the week ex- 
cept Saturday and Sunday, Ted, Roger and Glenn had 
lessons with Jack, and from two until three every after- 
noon they studied. Little Dick was the only one too 
young to be included in the regular school routine, but 
he had lessons of various sorts from his mother, father, 
Nancy and Marguerite, Aunt Sylvia, and the older 
boys. 

“All they study is math’matics and English and 
Latin,” Dick explained to Desdemona one day when he 
had been sent down to the Sigourneys’ with a message, 
and lingered to watch Desdemona painting an old wil- 
low. “ But I study all those a little when they have 
time to ’tend to me, and bot’ny with mother and 
mil’tary ta’tics with father, and hist’ry with the Ad- 
m’ral, and spelling with Nancy and Marguerite. Don’t 
you think that's a pretty good deal, Mona ? ” 

“ I think it’s a wonderful lot,” said Desdemona in 
98 


The Art Class 


99 


the serious way which always made Dick feel that she 
regarded him as quite a big boy, ‘‘but not any too 
much for your age. When you’re six, it’s only a little 
bit of a while before you’re ten, and after that it’s no 
time at all till you’re fifteen, and when you’re fifteen, 
I can tell you, Dick, people expect you to know a 
great deal.” 

“ I think you will, when you’re fifteen,” said Dick 
gallantly. 

“I shan’t,” said Desdemona, “for the time slips 
away so fast, and I’m spending most of it learning to 
paint, or trying to learn,” for this was one of the morn- 
ings when Desdemona’s mercurial spirits had sunk 
very low. 

Dick insinuated five small fingers, sticky from their 
recent contact with molasses candy, into the palm of 
Desdemona’s left hand which lay upturned in her lap 
while she gazed at her picture with a gloomy air. 

“ I think you paint very beautiful,” said Dick fer- 
vently. “ I heard JS'ancy and Marguerite say they 
wished you’d teach them.” 

“ Why, I’d love to,” said Desdemona eagerly; “ you 
tell them I’ll come up this very afternoon — Mr. Si- 
gourney said I was to go if I liked — and I’ll take some 
paints and brushes for them, and some water-color pa- 


lOO 


The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

per, and we’ll choose something very easy for them to 
begin on. They’re both so smart I’m sure they could 
learn to paint if they try. You tell them to put on 
big aprons, Dick, and have two thin boards to tack 
their paper on and — that’s too much to ask you to re- 
member. I’ll write it. You wait just a minute.” 

Dick waited, watching the butterflies, while Desde- 
mona tore a sheet of paper from a block in her basket, 
scribbled a note on it, folded it into a cocked hat, ad- 
dressed it to “ Miss Nancy Beaumont, Kindness of 
Kichard Compton,” and handed it to Dick. 

“ There,” she said, “ now you won’t have to bother 
to remember any message, and I’m afraid, Dick, I’ll 
have to stop talking right straight off, or when Mr. 
Sigourney comes back from the brook where he’s 
painting, he’ll think I’ve been lazy.” 

“ I’ll go home,” said Dick, comforting himself for his 
dismissal with a remembrance of the odor which had 
greeted him when he took a message to Aunt Sylvia, 
in the Beaumont kitchen, not long before starting 
down the road on his errand. It was the odor of mo- 
lasses cookies, unless Dick was greatly mistaken, and 
a messenger was always entitled to special privileges ; 
he trotted joyfully along on the homeward stretch. 

That afternoon, between the hours of two and three. 


The Art Class 


lOl 


a small and eager group gathered at the head of the 
path that led into Camp Wind- A way. It consisted of 
three young girls and one small boy. Desdemona, 
who was acting as teacher of the art class, and did not 
intend to paint except, as she stated to her pupils, “ to 
illustrate my points,’’ was in one of the pretty brown 
dresses which Marguerite called her “wood-nymph 
costumes,” but Nancy and Marguerite were shrouded 
from neck to ankles in checked aprons which Aunt 
Sylvia had put on, with many injunctions. 

“ I knows what dese painting works does to clothes, 
honey,” she had said to Nancy, who remarked plain- 
tively that the apron was very high-necked and 
warm, “and you nor Miss Marg’rite isn’t ’sperienced 
enough so you can keep de paint whar it belongs ; and 
if you came to de Adm’ral’s tea-pouring all splotched 
an’ marred up wid paint, my lamb, ’twould be de las’ 
’tempts you ebber made to be an artis’. I’s gwine 
send ’Yanus down to de camp ’bout half an hour befo’ 
tea-pouring time, an’ fotch you back to de house, ’long 
as de Adm’ral don’ feel like he wants to step off’n de 
piazzy to-day, an’ I’ll unhitch you bofe out’n dese 
aprons an’ kind o’ twitch you round into de right 
shape, and you devise Mona to be mighty keerful ’bout 
spotting herself, too. I mistrus’ we’s gwine hab com- 


102 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

p’ny dis afternoon, fo’ dat Mis’ Potter, she drap out’n 
her gate an’ introspected ’Yanus dis mo’ning, an’ axed 
him a mighty set ob questions ’bout all our doings, so 
I feels it in my bones dat she won’t hoi’ out longer’n 
dis aft’noon.” 

Desdemona had arranged impromptu easels for her 
two pupils, and provided them with paints and brushes. 
She had also selected the subject for their first 
sketches — a small pine which stood quite alone, at the 
head of the path. She stood behind her pupils, ready 
to advise and instruct them, as occasion arose. 

“ Paint it just as you see it,” she told them ; “ prob- 
ably you’ll see it quite differently from each other — 
you two.” 

Marguerite had been working steadily and silently 
for some moments, while Desdemona tried to encour- 
age Nancy. Suddenly Marguerite straightened herself, 
viewed the result of her efforts, and began to rock 
back and forth, while she laughed until the tears ran 
down her cheeks. 

“ I guess I see it differently from anybody else in the 
world,” she cried. “ Please, Mona, tell me what this 
looks like to you. Don’t try to be polite, just speak the 
plain truth.” 

Desdemona stepped behind her pupil and squinted 



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The Art Class 


103 

her eyes, while Dick gazed at the green and yellow ef- 
fect on his sister’s easel in bewilderment. 

“ I can’t think what it looks like,” said Desdemona ; 

“ it seems as if it were something to eat ” 

“ That’s it,” giggled Marguerite ; “ you’re ‘ warm,’ 
Mona. It looks more like a head of cabbage partly 
chopped up, with parsley sprigs all over it, than any- 
thing else in this world ! Mona, I’ve decided I never 
was meant for an artist. How do you feel, Haney ? 
Do you think your grandfather will believe you’ve in- 
herited your grandmother’s talent ? ” 

For answer, Haney tore her sheet of paper from its 
board, and then cut it in strips with a pair of shears. 

I wouldn’t have grandfather see it for worlds,” she 
said, “ for he would think I was crazy. Y ou know you 
and I feel that grandmother’s paintings are pretty stiff. 
Marguerite, and Mona says they are queer, but at least 
you can generally tell what grandmother was trying to 
paint. I’ve sat here all this time, without even getting 
the shape of the tree. Look ! ” and she spread the 
strips before Marguerite. “ And Mona has been as 
patient as she could be ! I shan’t try again. All I can 
do is to embroider and darn things — that’s my only ac- 
complishment,” and Haney looked quite sorrowful. 

‘‘ You’ve given up too soon,” said Desdemona, but her 


104 Admiral' s Little Companion 

tone was not a very assured one, and her pupils faced 
her with reproachful eyes. 

“ J^ow long do you think we should have to work 
before we could paint a tree that any one would 
recognize, Mona ?” demanded Marguerite. “We that 
have had drawing lessons and are old enough to have 
some sense.” 

“ Well,” admitted Desdemona, slowly, “ I don’t know. 
There’s a little girl in our school who’s only eight, and 
she’s never had drawing lessons, but she made a tree 
that really looked like a tree one day when I took her 
out in the park — so I’m almost afraid ” 

“ You needn’t say another word,” and Marguerite re- 
moved the work of art from her board with one free 
and vigorous movement of her hands. “ Let’s go to 
Aunt Sylvia and be taken out of these aprons, where 
she sewed us in to make sure they wouldn’t slip, and 
rest a little before ^ tea-pouring ’ time. Mona, don’t you 
almost roast when you’re painting these warm days ? 
I’m about melted ! ” 

“ I never think anything about it, I’m so interested,” 
said Desdemona, as they walked slowly up the path 
toward the house. 

Nancy and Marguerite exchanged glances. 

“ That shows how different we are, Mona,” said 


The Art Class 


105 

Nancy. ‘‘ I’ve remembered how hot the sun is almost 
every minute since I began to paint.” 

“ Perhaps that was the reason neither of you could 
paint a tree,” said Desdemona hopefully. ‘‘We might 
try it again some cool day and ” 

“ Oh, no,” said Nancy and Marguerite with one ac- 
cord, shaking their heads most decidedly. 

“ I couldn’t paint a tree, even if it were a very, very 
cool day, I’m perfectly sure,” said Nancy, “ though it’s 
just as kind of you, Mona, to offer me another chance. 
Perhaps Marguerite might do it.” 

“ No indeed,” said Marguerite hastily. “ I should 
probably do still worse the next time, Mona, thank you 
just as much. I think our sketching class will have to 
be disbanded.” 

“ On account of lack of talent,” said Nancy, “ though 
we know we had a fine teacher. Oh, don’t you hear 
wheels ? If we hurry perhaps we can reach the orchard 
and be out of sight before the carriage gets to the turn 
iu the driveway.” 

They ran, and almost reached the shelter of the 
apple trees ; not quite, however. Mrs. Potter, driven 
by Bartley Pearson, leaned forward, her far-sighted 
glasses astride her nose, and gazed at the three little 
fiying figures. 


io6 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

“ Have they got a Fresh Air delegation here, or who 
are those children, do you suppose ? ” she demanded of 
her companion. “ They’ve got some sort of a blue and 
white checked uniform on, such as I’ve seen in pictures, 
two of ’em have, and the third one looks like that girl 
down at the Sigourneys’. See here, you don’t suppose 
that could have been Haney and her friend Marguerite 
Compton, do you ? The Admiral wouldn’t ever hear 
of Haney’s running around dressed up that way, what- 
ever the Comptons might allow. Haney’s been brought 
up very particular and careful.” 

“ Sho, now, I guess you can’t tell me anything new 
about the way she’s been brought up,” said Mr. Pearson, 
slightly irritated by Mrs. Potter’s air of superior knowl- 
edge. “ My folks have always lived round here, and I 
know the Beaumonts, root an’ branch, and all their 
ways. Folks that have only lived hereabouts for a 
little matter o’ twenty years better not undertake to 
instruct me,” and his moon face took on a stubborn 
look. 

“ I wasn’t intending to,” said Mrs. Potter stiffly, and 
there fell a moment’s silence. “ Hot that there’s any 
harm in checked aprons, if that’s what they were,” she 
added thoughtfully, just before the last turn in the 
driveway. 


The Art Class 


107 


‘‘ Not a mite,” assented Bartley Pearson, resuming his 
usual mildness. “ Time will tell whether that’s what 
they were or weren’t. Is this the spot you wanted I 
should stop while you change to your other glasses ? ” 

“ Yes, ’twas, and you were real thoughtful to bear it 
in mind,” said Mrs. Potter gratefully ; and the transfer 
being accomplished, they rounded the turn and drew 
up at the front door in a most amicable state of mind, 
as beseemed old and tried friends and neighbors. 

“ Ah,” said Mr. Pearson, as he spied the Admiral’s 
figure at the open door, “ I was minded to come out 
and pay you a call, sir, this fine afternoon, between 
post-officelhours, and I found my neighbor Mrs. Potter 
desired to take the air — so here we are. Admiral, here 
we are ! ” 

Admiral Beaumont advanced slowly, to meet his 
guests, leaning heavily on his walking-stick. His 
mouth was set in what was meant for a smile of wel- 
come, but his face was drawn with pain, for his gout, 
defying the heat, had attacked him a few hours before, 
not as boldly as it sometimes did, to be sure, but quite 
boldly enough to render its victim most uncomfort- 
able. 

“ It is kind of you to take the long drive on such a 
warm day,” said the Admiral, shaking hands with Mr. 


io8 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

Pearson, who had nimbly alighted. “ I am sorry that I 
cannot offer Mrs. Potter the assistance which I should 
gladly give her, owing to my crippled condition.” 

“ Don’t speak of it, sir,” said Mr. Pearson, with a 
wave of his hand, before holding it out to grasp Mrs. 
Potter’s elbow. “Careful, now, ma’am, not to over- 
reach the step, and lose your balance. You aren’t so 
young as you were, nor so light on your feet, and it’s 
well to take care.” 

“ I guess it’s some time since he’s looked in the glass. 
Admiral,” said Mrs. Potter with a toss of the head on 
which her new summer hat was insecurely pinned. 
“ He’d better look in it once in a while, and see if there 
isn’t somebody else taking on years and flesh. How’s 
your health, now, aside from your affliction, I mean ? ” 

“ It is excellent, madam,” said the Admiral, shaking 
the hand extended to him in a new gray silk glove. 
“Will you sit on the piazza, or do you prefer the 
house ? ” 

“The piazza for me every time,” said Mr. Pearson 
without waiting for Mrs. Potter to express her wish. 
“ How-d’y-do, Sylvanus ; you needn’t take the horse out 
to the barn, ’less you want to. He’ll stand all right, 
where he is.” 

Sylvanus, who had removed his cap in respectful 


The Art Class 


109 

greeting to Mrs. Potter, led the horse off with the air 
of not having heard any remark addressed to him. 

Oh, very well, do just as you like,” Mr. Pearson 
called after him amiably. “ Seems pretty uppity, but 
I’ve got used to his ways,” said the postmaster turning 
to his host. “ Shall we take chairs, Adm’ral ? I see 
here’s one that looks about the fit for me,” and with no 
further ado, Mr. Pearson sank on to a comfortable seat 
and removed his hat. 

“ Air feels good ; you have considerable air up here,” 
he remarked genially. “ Where’s my little friend Miss 
Nancy ? ” 

The Admiral always stiffened when with Bartley 
Pearson, try as he might to preserve a cordial attitude. 
Mrs. Potter knew much better how to please him. 

“ All the way up, I kept thinking what a fine thing 
it is that there are some old families left, to live on their 
beautiful old places,” she said diplomatically, when the 
Admiral, after a stare of displeasure at Mr. Pearson’s 
lapse of courtesy, selected a chair for her. “ It makes 
everything in Potterville seem so kind of new and 
glarey — Beaumont Corners does, Admiral. Not but 
what new things are good, and we need them, but there 
isn’t the same air to them, nor the same rest. I don’t 
know as I express myself plainly,” and Mrs. Potter 


110 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

looked at her host with an expression so conciliatory 
and meek that it is doubtful whether her husband 
would have recognized it. 

The Admiral bowed and looked at her with distinct 
approval as he took his seat near her. 

“ You have expressed a thought which has often been 
in my mind, madam,” he said, “ although it might have 
seemed to savor of pride had I put it into words.” 

“Not at all, sir,” Mrs. Potter assured him hastily. 
“ I’m sure you’ve every right to feel so. This is the 
most beautiful spot anywhere ’round, as I often say to 
your granddaughter when she stops in for a little talk 
with me. I enjoy having her come very much, and she 
favors me real often. I’ve missed her a great deal, 
during your absence.” 

“ I’m sure she enjoys her visits to you, madam,” re- 
turned the Admiral, for, he thought, this was really a 
most agreeable guest even if her hat was rather youth- 
ful and had assumed a strange angle on her head. “ By 
the way, it is time Nancy was here, I think.” 

“ I wonder if it could have been her figur’ and two 
others we saw,” began Mr. Pearson, hitching his chair 
nearer the center of conversation, with a rasping sound 
which caused the Admiral’s brows to knit. 

He got no farther, for Mrs. Potter, leaning forward^ 


The Art Class 


111 


shot a glance full of warning at him and again took 
the reins of conversation into her own hands. 

“ She must be having a lovely time now her friend 
Miss Marguerite’s here,” said Mrs. Potter, with strong 
accent on the Miss for Bartley Pearson’s benefit. 
“And I suppose she sees a good deal of that little 
Macdonald girl, too; she wrote me about her last 
winter, and then I understand there’s a great deal 
going on down at your new camp in the woods. Ad- 
miral. Sylvanus told me this morning that you had 
‘ an accumulation of young gentlemen ’ there. He 
loves so to use long words, but dear me, he is the most 
faithful creature that ever was in this world, when it 
comes to your interests. Admiral ! And I must say, it 
seems as if Beaumont Corners was going to be the head 
of social life this summer, just as I hear it used to be in 
former times. It must be real pleasant to be in that 
position. I know just a little how ’tis, from being 
president of the Potterville Woman’s Club. I don’t 
know as you ever heard of our organization, but we 
have real social meetings, every fortnight, from Octo- 
ber till May. This winter we have been reading 
Shakespeare. What is your opinion of him, as a 
writer. Admiral ? ” 

“ Ah,” said Admiral Beaumont, with great delibera- 


112 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

tion, “my opinion is Here comes Haney with 

her friends, Mrs. Potter. Let us leave the considera- 
tion of Shakespeare for a more propitious time — with 
your permission, of course, madam.” 

“ Why certainly,” said Mrs. Potter, quite overcome 
with gratification at his deferential manner, and she 
rose to greet Haney, pleasantly excited, her hat sway- 
ing unsteadily over her left ear. “ We’ll have plenty 
of other opportunities, I hope. Admiral.” 


CHAPTEE X 


VISITORS 

Nancy and Marguerite sat talking to Mrs. Potter, 
but Desdemona, when her iirtroduotion to the visitors 
had been accomplished, found herself confronted by 
the round, slightly bulging eyes of Bartley Pearson, 
who gazed at her as if he found something irresistibly 
fascinating in her appearance. 

“ You aren’t one of Nancy’s rich city friends, accord- 
ing to what I hear going the rounds,” said Mr. Pearson, 
by way of opening conversation. 

Desdemona nodded at him, her face alight with 
amusement. She had heard many stories about the 
postmaster of Potterville from Nancy and the Comp- 
tons. 

“ Eich,” she said earnestly, “ I guess not ! Didn’t 
you know I lived in a basement, half under the side- 
walk, in the house where the Beaumonts had their 
suite ? ” 

“Well, there,” and Bartley Pearson’s eyes bulged 
more than usual with amazement, “I did hear some- 
thing o’ the kind, but I thought ’twas misrepresented 
113 


114 The Admiral's L,ittle Companion 

to me. Do I understand it’s what they call a ‘ slum,’ 
where you reside ? ” 

“ Slum ! ” echoed Desdemona, her indignation for a 
moment getting the better of her amusement, and 
there was an angry light in her gray eyes. 

“ Well, I don’t mean any offense,” said Mr. Pear- 
son hastily. “I’ve never seen one myself, and I 
kind of thought they were underground, or mostly 
so.” 

“ All right, I won’t get mad, — though I was for a 
minute,” said Desdemona frankly, “ for slums aren’t 
at all like the place where I live, even if my home is 
in a basement. All janitors live in basements, unless 
they live in a house somewhere else. My family is no 
worse off than others, and our location is fine.” 

“ I’m glad to hear it,” said Mr. Pearson, bewildered, 
but determined to gain all the information he could. 
“ Sightly spot, I take it.” 

“ Well, no,” admitted Desdemona, “ not exactly what 
you’d call sightly, but real select, Mr. Pearson.” 

“I see,” and the postmaster nodded, with pursed 
lips, his mind in a whirl. “ What you’d call tony ? ” 

“ No, I should never call it that,” said Desdemona 
decidedly, “ for I’d never use that word.” 

“Wouldn’t?” inquired Mr. Pearson. “Well, in 


Visitors 


115 

Potterville we make use of it. You gather my mean- 
ing’s the same as your ‘ select,’ don’t ye ? ” 

“ Yes,” and Desdemona laughed. “ We’d better not 
keep getting provoked with each other,” she said, “ or 
we shan’t get on very fast.” 

“ You’re a free-spoken piece,” remarked Mr. Pearson, 

but there’s something about you I kind of cottoned 
to the first minute I laid eyes on ye.” 

“ Perhaps it’s my hair,” said Desdemona, mischief 
sparkling in her eyes. “Do you admire red above 
every other color ? ” 

“ E'o, I don’t,” said Bartley Pearson bluntly, “ not 
but what it’s well enough. I don’t object to it, mind 
ye, only it would never be my choice.” 

“ Nor mine, either,” said Desdemona, “ so we’re 
agreed there ; but it’s all I have, and artists like it ever 
so much.” 

“ I want to know,” said Mr. Pearson dubiously ; 
“ well, they’re a queer lot, I reckon, artists are. Some 
folks go so far as to say the most of ’em are onbalanced 
— but that’s putting it a little too strong for me. All 
Pd say is, they lack common sense.” 

Desdemona threw back her head and laughed until 
every one on the piazza turned to look at her. Bartley 
Pearson gazed at her, his mouth slightly open, trying 


ii6 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

to imagine what he had said that struck this little red- 
haired girl as so amusing. 

‘‘ If there’s a joke, Mona, I’d like to hear it,” said 
Marguerite, but Desdemona shook her head. 

“ No,” she said, choking back her laughter and try- 
ing to be very sober, “ it’s not a joke at all. It only 
seemed funny to me. Mr. Pearson thinks artists lack 
common sense.” 

The Admiral bent a displeased gaze on Mr. Pearson’s 
open countenance. 

“ You probably have had small acquaintance in the 
world of art, sir,” he said severely. “ My wife was an 
artist, and I can assure you there never was a lady 
possessed of greater common sense than she had. I 
trust you will hold your opinion in reserve, awaiting 
fuller experience, sir. Have you had the privilege of 
meeting my friend and neighbor, Mr. Wilfred Si- 
gourney ? ” 

“ I’ve been seeing him at the post-office for the last 
week, off an’ on,” stated Mr. Pearson. “I hadn’t 
thought of it as being any special privilege, Adm’ral, 
but if you say ^tis, why, I suppose it must be. But I 
can tell you one thing, if I was his mother I wouldn’t 
let him borrow my silk ribbons and so on to tie under 
his collar ; I’d buy him some suitable men’s neckties, 


V isitors 


117 


and put ’em on him. Well, what’s setting you off 
now ? ” he demanded of Desdemona, who had begun 
to laugh again. 

“ ITothing,” said Desdemona, her voice smothered in 
her handkerchief, “ nothing at all, Mr. Pearson.” 

“ I think Mrs. Potter and Mr. Pearson would both 
like to see Camp Wind- Away, grandfather,” said 
Nancy, foreseeing more questions from the postmaster. 
‘‘ May we take them down there for half an hour, and 
then come back to you for our tea-drinking ? ” 

“ An excellent suggestion, my dear,” said the 
Admiral who had begun to feel tired, in spite of Mrs. 
Potter’s agreeable remarks. “ I will remain here, and 
await your return.” 

“ Marguerite and I took our first, and last, painting 
lesson to-day, Mrs. Potter,” said Nancy, as they walked 
away from the house. “We have decided we shall 
never be artists, so we have given it up at once.” 

“ Well, I thmk you made a good decision,” said Mrs. 
Potter. “ It’s real mussy work, say what you’ve a 
mind to, and your grandfather’d never bear it to see 
you anything but spick and span ; and I shouldn’t 
suppose Miss Marguerite’s mother would, either. Hav- 
ing so many boys in the family she must have all the 
spots and stains to look after that anybody ought to 


ii8 The Admiral's ILittle Companion 

be called upon to attend to ; and she strikes me as a 
very dainty person.” 

“ She is,” said Marguerite and Nancy together, both 
much pleased with the compliment. 

“ Aunt Sylvia pinned us into big checked aprons be- 
fore we took our lesson,” said Marguerite, for the 
children felt sure Mrs. Potter had seen them in spite 
of their endeavors to get out of sight. “We didn’t get 
so much as a pinhead of paint on our clothes — but my 
apron ! ” 

Mrs. Potter nodded, comprehendingly. 

“ I’ll wager ’twas a sight,” she said. “ Bartley 
Pearson, don’t you go striding on so fast. I ought to 
be the one to go ahead of you when we get to the 
camp. Don’t you recollect it’s ‘ ladies first ’ ? ” 

Mr. Pearson reluctantly halted, and allowed the 
company to come abreast of him, and then pass him, 
although it must be said that he kept so closely behind 
Marguerite and Desdemona that he several times trod 
on their heels. 

“ Kind of a narrow way to get into the woods,” he 
commented, as they turned into the last little winding 
path. 

“ Depends on how broad you are,” Mrs. Potter threw 
over her shoulder ; “ Nancy and I don’t seem to have 


Visitors 


119 


any trouble side by side, nor the other two young 
ladies. You get on the scales when you’re back home, 
Bartley, and see what they’ll tell you.” 

“I wa’n’t speaking from a personal standpoint,” 
said Mr. Pearson, reproachfully. “ I was just gener’liz- 
ing. That’s a pretty clump o’ trees ahead. I expect 
there’s a consider’ble lot of money going to waste in 
these woods, E'ancy. Get a portable sawmill in here 
now and ” 

“You put a portable sawmill right into that old 
post-office o’ yours first, and make away with the old 
truck and dicker you’ve got in there, before you start 
planning for other folks’ woods that are a credit to the 
landscape,” interrupted Mrs. Potter indignantly, seeing 
the flush on Nancy’s cheek. “ What’s come over you 
to be so ready with suggestions this afternoon ? ” she 
inquired more mildly. 

“ I don’t intend any harm, ma’am,” said Mr. Pearson, 
with dignity. “ This being a holiday with me, my 
mind is relaxed from its reg’lar duties, and free to take 
up outside matters. I can keep silence, if that’s what’s 
desired of me,” and he looked really offended. 

“ Mercy no, say on, for all o’ me,” said Mrs. Potter, 
and as they went along the path Desdemona turned a 
laughing face to the postmaster. 


120 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

“ / wouldn’t have you stop talking for anything,” she 
told him ; “ I love to hear you, Mr. Pearson.” 

“Well now, I’m looking forward to more of your 
conversation,” said Mr. Pearson, falling into step with 
her. “ I want to know the partic’lars about that home 
o’ yours, and some points on janitors as a whole, 
though I don’t know as there’ll be fitting opportunity 
to-day.” 

“ IS'ot to-day, probably,” said Desdemona, “ for we’re 
right at the camp now. See the name on that board — 
Camp Wind- A way — Mr. Jack Beaumont made that 
sign ; aren’t the letters handsome ? ” 

“ They look pretty fair,” said Mr. Pearson after a 
close examination. “ I don’t believe but what he could 
get the job of doing the new road-signs if he wanted it. 
Town’s got to have some, and they’d pay ten dollars or 
so for the lot. I understand money’s none too plenty 
with the Beaumonts. The Admiral had to part with 
some land, you probably know, to raise the money for 
their city wintering, Nancy’s schooling and so on. It’s 
no secret,” he added, seeing the expression on Desde- 
mona’s face. 

“ I don’t know anything about their affairs, and I 
don’t wish to,” she said, her gray eyes looking straight 
into his, her mouth very firm. “ All I know is that 


V isitors 


121 


they’re fine people, and that Nancy has been perfectly 
beautiful to me, and made my life all over, and that I 
love her and love her with all my heart, and I don’t 
want ever to hear a word against anybody who’s part 
of her family or one of her friends. And I guess the 
Admiral would take your head olf if he heard you sug- 
gesting that Mr. Jack should paint sign-boards for 
money,” she added frankly. 

“Well now, he’d have some little trouble getting it 
off,” announced Mr. Pearson without rancor. “It’s 
been on my shoulders some sixty-five years, and I’m 
calc’lating to keep it right there, till I’m done with it. 
Your words kind o’ fly away with you, now and again, 
I reckon. There’s worse work than painting sign- 
boards, I can tell ye. I want to know if that’s the play- 
house I’ve been hearing about down to the freight 
depot. Well, well ! I wonder what we’ll come to, 
next ! Do I understand that came up here, by rail- 
road, all ^eady to set up ? What’s keeping it anchored, 
in case of a big wind ? ” 

“ How-d’you-do, Mr. Pearson ? ” came Jack Beau- 
mont’s voice, and the postmaster turned to see Jack, 
with Ted, Koger, Dick and Glenn, standing near one of 
the tents, each with a big white towel in his hands. 

“ How-d’you-do ? ” said Mr. Pearson, his eyes fastened 


122 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

on the towel in Jack’s hands for a moment, then roam- 
ing to the others. ‘‘ Been having some kind of a drill, 

I take it.” 

“We’ve been in swimming,” said Jack. “ If you’d 
been here an hour earlier perhaps we could have 
persuaded you to go in with us.” 

“ No, sir,” and Mr. Pearson’s face took on as resolute 
a look as it could assume ; “ my swimming days were 
over some forty-five years ago. Whereabouts do you 
go ? Down to the old pool ? ” 

“ The very spot,” said Jack. “ Did you come way 
up here when you were a boy, sir ? ” 

“ Not often,” said Mr. Pearson, “ but your great- ^ 
grandfather used to give a picnic to the townsfolks 
every summer, and I never missed coming once. It 
was quite an occasion for all the children, specially the 
boys. We used to go in swimming, and then sit on 
Pirates’ Kock afterward and tell stories, some we’d 
heard and some we made up as we went along, I 
reckon. And then some o’ the boys would try digging 
for treasure,” he added. “ I suppose the old rock’s all 
overgrown, or the way to it is, nowadays.” 

“We’ve been clearing a path to it,” said Jack, while 
the boys looked at Mr. Pearson’s mild face with new 
interest. “ I’ll show you. But don’t you want to see 


Visitors 


123 

the tents first, and then the house ? I see Mrs. Potter 
has already been taken into the house, and you won’t 
wish her to say she’s seen more than you have, I know. 
I shouldn’t, in your place.” 

“ I’m at your service,” announced the postmaster, 
and he briskly followed Jack into his tent, the boys 
grouping themselves about him, to lose none of his 
comments, and occasionally they called his attention to 
something he might otherwise have missed. 

Meanwhile Mrs. Potter was examining the house in 
a thorough and professional manner. She sought for 
cracks through which the rain might leak, to ruin the 
shining little stove, the cot-beds, the rattan chairs or 
the pretty green cotton rags, but not a crack could she 
find. She examined the corners and the doors, the lit- 
tle steps and the window-casings. 

‘‘ Well, I never saw the beat of it ! ” she admitted, at 
last. “ You just wait till I tell my husband about this ; 
he thinks he can tell a good job of carpentering when 
he sees it, but he’s never seen anything like this. He’ll 
be set to make such a house himself. I wish he could 
see it.” 

Why can’t he see it, Mrs. Potter ? ” asked the Gen- 
eral who had come from his tent to join the visitors. 
“Give him a most cordial invitation from the camp. 


124 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

I’ve heard from JS^ancy about the clever work he did 
for her in that wonderful freight car in which she made 
her eventful journey.” 

“ Why, he’d be pleased to come,” and Mrs. Potter 
colored with gratification. “He’s never one to put 
himself forward ; he holds back too much, if anything, 
but given a cordial invitation and a mite of urging 
from me, he’s ready to go half-way. He could ride 
out some Saturday afternoon.” 

“ I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Jack. “ We’ll 
have a picnic, such as ]\Ii\ Pearson’s been telling us they 
used to have here, when he was a boy. We’ll ask all 
our friends in town, and I’ll get Mr. Potter to help me 
plan some rough tables. Would he be able to spare the 
time, do you think ? ” 

Mrs. Potter’s color rose still higher in her thin cheeks. 

“ He will,” she said firmly, but with a good deal of 
excitement in her tone. “ He’ll be glad to, Mr. Jack.” 

“ That matter being satisfactorily settled,” said Mr. 
Pearson in a rather impatient tone, “ I should like to 
ask if I’m to be allowed to set foot in this house I’ve 
been hearing about, as Mrs. Potter’s been privileged to 
do, or have I got to view it from where I stand ? I’ve 
seen tents before now; that is, I’ve seen pne^'^ he 
added with Mrs. Potter’s eyes fixed accusingly on him. 


Visitors 


125 


“ when the circus came to Potterville two years ago, 
but a portable house is something I never have seen. 
Will it hold my weight, think ? ” 

“ Come right in, Mr. Pearson,”, urged Nancy, “ and 
see for yourself.” 

The postmaster stepped cautiously over the threshold, 
then raised himself on tiptoe and let himself down on 
to his heels. A little dish on the table rattled, but 
everything else remained unshaken. He thrust his 
hands deep into his pockets and looked about him, at 
the comfortable room, with its pretty furnishings, and 
gazed inquiringly at the doors which evidently led to 
other rooms. He stepped to the three windows, one 
after another, and looked out at the woods. He ran 
his finger up and down the walls, and stooped to ex- 
amine the fioor. Then, at last, he seated himself, with- 
out waiting for an invitation, in the largest chair. 

“ Well,” he said after due deliberation, “ well, I’ve 
seen automobiles and I’m looking forward to clapping 
my eyes some day on a flying machine, but with a 
house such as this that wa’n’t in existence, so to speak, 
a week ago, and now is here, complete, for me to sit in 
and view, I realize more’n I ever did before that we 
live in an age o’ ^/’ogress, and I don’t care who hears 
me say it — an age o’^r<?gress I ” 


CHAPTEE XI 


AT WIND- A WAY LODGE 

It was a week after the visit of Mrs. Potter and Mr. 
Pearson that Nancy and Marguerite were in the little 
house in the woods, preparing for visitors one after- 
noon. They were dressed in the checked aprons which 
they had worn at their only painting lesson and 
Aunt Sylvia and Mrs. Dole were superintending their 
efforts to make a new sort of cooky, invented by 
Aunt Sylvia, and designed to be served with afternoon 
tea. 

Neither of the little cooks had much trust in her own 
ability, and while Aunt Sylvia encouraged them, Mrs. 
Dole eyed them with a dubious air, and from time to 
time voiced her opinions as to the probable results of 
their energy. 

“ You don’t handle de mixing spoon like you’s ac- 
quainted wid it. Miss Nancy,” she remarked, hovering 
over the bowl in which Nancy was stirring a yellowish 
mixture, “ and you. Miss Marg’rite, can’t you get de 
lumps out’n dat mixture ob yours ? Whar did you get 
such lumps, anyhow, Miss Marg’rite ? ” 

126 


At Wind-Away Lodge 127 

“ Please don’t talk that way, Mrs. Dole ; you’re mak- 
ing me nervous,” begged Marguerite. “ I put in the 
ingredients just exactly the way Aunt Sylvia told me 
to ; there must have been lumps in the sugar and the 
butter at the very beginning.” 

“ Suah, chile, you wouldn’t hab de ingregiencies 
running^ from de firs’ minute ! ” cried Mrs. Dole, and 
at last her anxiety gave way to mirth. Hyah dat, 
now,” she said to Aunt Sylvia. “ Ain’ dat de beatin’est 
you ebber heard ? ” 

“Work yo’ spoon a leetle mite more free, honey,” 
Aunt Sylvia was adjuring Nancy. “ Don’ be so ser’ous 
wid it ; seems like it’ll make dose cookies too solid tast- 
ing, less’n you kind o’ play wid de spoon a teeny mite. 
Dat’s right ! Now, I’ll pour in de nuts, and Mrs. 
Dole, you pour in for Miss Marg’rite, an’ we’ll jess gib 
de final twis’ to de mixture, an’ den drap it onto de 
wax paper, an’ clap it into dat leetle cunnin’ stove. 
Kind ob a trinket, I call dat stove, but it does mighty 
good work. Lan’s sake, don’ I ketch de sound o’ 
voices ? ” 

“ It’s Mrs. Carter,” said Nancy, after listening for a 
second. “ She’s come back from her visit, and she said 
she’d come here just as soon as she could. She got 
home only last night. She’s made grandfather walk 


128 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

down here with her. Oh, Marguerite, I’m so glad you’ll 
see her ! ” 

Aunt Sylvia was unbuttoning Nancy’s apron, while 
Mrs. Dole performed the same office for Marguerite. 
The Admiral and his guest were advancing slowly but 
surely. Nancy knew that Mrs. Carter was purposely 
talking louder than usual, so that they might know she 
was coming. As Aunt Sylvia gathered one apron into 
her hands, and Mrs. Dole secured the other, there 
came a gleam of white and gold through the trees, and 
Nancy ran out of the house, followed by Marguerite. 

“ Praise be,” said Aunt Sylvia and Mrs. Dole in 
concert, under their breaths, and with cheerful faces 
and practiced hands they finished the composition of 
the cookies and placed them in the little stove. 

“ You blessed child, you’re sweeter than ever, I do 
believe,” cried Mrs. Carter as she bent her head with 
its great white hat and drew Nancy close to the beauti- 
ful gold embroidered dress. “ Isn’t she. Admiral Beau- 
mont ? Speak the truth, sir, just as if she were not 
your granddaughter.” 

Marguerite expected to see the Admiral’s face assume 
its sternest and most disapproving expression at this 
question, and what from another person’s lips he would 
have called “ extravagant language ” ; but the Admiral 


129 


At Wind- Away Lodge 

was listening with an indulgent smile, such as he would 
have given to no one else, in Marguerite’s opinion. 
The sight of Nancy’s pink cheeks so close to the 
brilliant beauty of Mrs. Carter’s dark face, the sound 
of the merry, deliciously impertinent voice of his 
charming guest, left the Admiral quite without power 
or wish to criticize. 

“You may be right, madam,” he said in a tone of 
great amusement, not without a tinge of pride. “ Her 
present position is certainly one to make her appear 
at her best,” and he bowed low, while Nancy dimpled 
with pleasure. 

“ I’d like to introduce my friend Marguerite Comp- 
ton,” she said as Mrs. Carter released her, and Mar- 
guerite stepped forward to take the slender hand 
outstretched to her, falling at once under the spell of 
Mrs. Carter’s charm. “ She’s heard me talk about you 
so much that she feels almost as if she knew you.” 

“And so she does,” said Mrs. Carter with what 
Marguerite called an enchanting smile. “ Nancy’s best 
friend must be a friend of mine, or I shall be very, 
very sad. You’ve never seen me sad. Admiral Beau- 
mont, I think.” 

“ Never, madam,” said the Admiral gravely, but with 
twinkling eyes, “ and I trust I may be spared the sight.” 


130 The Admiral' s Tittle Compajiion 

“ I wish to see everybody and everything in Camp 
Wind-Away,” said Mrs. Carter with pretty imperious- 
ness when the Admiral had been installed in his chair, 
not without some remonstrance on his part. “ First of 
all, what is the name of this dear little house ? ” 

“We haven’t given it a name,” said Nancy and 
Marguerite together, looking at each other, and Nancy 
added, “ but it ought to have a name, of course.” 

“ Of course it ought,” said Marguerite. “ You name 
it for us, Mrs. Carter, won’t you ? Wouldn’t that be 
nice, Nancy ? We’d like a very romantic name, Mrs. 
Carter, and yet a practical one, I think.” 

“ Because it’s romantic to have a house in the 
woods,” said Nancy, “ and yet we do very practical 
things in it ; at least we mean to ; Mrs. Dole has done 
most of the practical things for us, so far.” 

“ Let me think,” said Mrs. Carter, and she leaned 
forward, holding her chin in the cup of her hands, 
resting her elbows on the arms of the rustic chair in 
which she had seated herself. “ Komantic — and prac- 
tical — ro-man-tic and prac-ti-cal. Why not call it 
Wind- Away Lodge ? ” 

Nancy and Marguerite clasped each other’s hands 
and looked at their beautiful friend with unconcealed 
admiration. 


At Wind- Away Lodge 131 

“ I should have thought and thought and never have 
thought of that,” said Marguerite, “ and yet it’s the 
very simplest, most appropriate name for it.” 

“ They have caretakers in lodges, don’t they ? ” 
asked Nancy. “ And don’t they serve tea sometimes 
to visitors who come to see the grand English estates, 
the lodge keepers, I mean ? And the lodge is always 
near the entrance. Oh, Mrs. Carter, we do thank you, 
and it will be called Wind- A way Lodge from this very 
minute, won’t it. Marguerite ? ” 

“ Indeed it will,” said Marguerite, and when, a few 
moments later. Jack and the boys came up the path 
from the river, they were informed of the christening 
in the next breath after being presented to the visitor. 

Jack was a favorite with Mrs. Carter and they fell 
into a bantering talk to which the Admiral listened, 
much amused, adding a word noAV and then. Before 
long the General and Mrs. Compton joined the group, 
and the children, finding the conversation rather too 
grown up to interest them, strolled off to one of the 
giant pines and seated themselves in a circle before it, 
drawing lots to see which one should tell a story. This 
was one of their “ hot-day ’musements,” suggested by 
Aunt Sylvia, whom they frequently cajoled into being 
the story-teller, without regard to theUength of the slip 


132 The Admirar s Tittle Companion 

of paper she had drawn. Aunt Sylvia was never 
reckoned with the grown-ups, but always with the chil- 
dren, whom she much preferred for companions. To- 
day, however, they knew Aunt Sylvia was busy, and it 
would be of no use to plead with her ; so they drew 
lots, and the longest slip fell to Glenn’s share. 

“ Tell us a hospital story,” said Ted, and the others 
all chimed in, “ Yes, tell us a hospital story.” 

“ I can’t think of one right off the bat, like that,” 
said Glenn. “ Oh, I don’t suppose you know what that 
means.” 

“ I do,” said Roger proudly. “ I’ve been to baseball 
games with my father ; he and I are the only ones in 
the family that care for baseball, but we do. It means 
served right up, hot and quick,” he explained to Ted, 
while the others listened respectfully. “If you’d go 
once in a while, instead of thinking football is the only 
game,” he added by way of advice, “ you’d learn a lot 
of terms like that.” 

“ As long as you know them, I don’t need to,” said 
Ted good-naturedly, for it was a rule of Camp Wind- 
Away that snubbing was to be avoided, and Roger sel- 
dom had a chance to display superior knowledge. 

“ I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking about,” said 
Glenn. “I’ve been remembering what a kid who’d 


»33 


At Wind- Aw ay Lodge 

come to the hospital with a broken leg told me one 
night when he was kind of wide-awake and they let 
me stay with him a while. I asked him what was the 
best fun he’d ever had in his life, and he told me ’twas 
playing in what he called a Kitchen Orchestra. Did 
any of you ever hear of one ? ” 

“ Kever ! ” cried the children all together. “ What 
is it?” 

“Why, it’s a make-believe orchestra,” said Glenn. 
“ His father played in a real orchestra, and the summer 
before this kid broke his leg, a lot of the musicians and 
their families were together for a month at a seashore 
place where there were ever so many cottages. And 
they got up this Kitchen Orchestra, and everybody 
played in it one night, just for fun, and they let some 
of the neighbors come to the place on the beach where 
they had a bonfire and listen to them.” 

“ But what kind of instruments did they have ? ” 
asked Kancy. 

“ They had all kinds, by what the kid told me,” and 
Glenn began to smile at the recollection. “ They had 
iron skillets and stew-pans and griddles, with twine 
fastened across them for strings, and they played on 
them with knives and picked at them with forks. 
Some things they beat on with spoons, and some they 


134 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

struck with hammers. And whether their instruments 
made any noise or not — and a lot of them didn’t — there 
was a tune going all the time, for they hummed it right 
along, while they were playing. I was thinking it 
would be kind of good fun if we could do something 
like that to celebrate the General’s birthday. He told 
me it was the fifteenth of July, and I thought it would 
make him laugh ; he’s so easy to laugh,” added Glenn, 
modestly. 

‘‘ How did father happen to tell you about his birth- 
day ? ” asked Ted curiously. 

Glenn colored, but his eyes looked straight into 
Ted’s. 

“ He was asking me when mine came,” said Glenn, 
“ and I told him — I told him I didn’t just know, except 
it was in the winter some time. Mrs. Leahy couldn’t 
quite remember — and it don’t make any difference 
anyway. The General said he was all the time wishing 
his birthday didn’t come around so often ; and then he 
said ’twould be ’round again pretty soon. That was 
how it happened.” 

“ I wouldn’t ever have known when my birthday 
came, if my mother hadn’t put it in a book and showed 
it to me,” said Dick, sitting a little closer to Glenn, and 
placing a small hand on his hero’s knees. “Most 


At Wind- Away Lodge 135 

proba’ly your mother didn’t have one of those books, 
and so Mrs. Leahy couldn’t tell you.” 

“I reckon that’s the way of it,” said Glenn, his 
fingers closing over Dick’s. 

“ I think it’s a perfectly splendid idea to have the 
orchestra,” said Marguerite. “ Oughtn’t we to begin 
to rehearse right off ? Who’ll tell us about the 
instruments ? ” 

“ Mrs. Carter will, I know,” said JS^ancy. “ She be- 
longed to an orchestral club before she came to Potter- 
ville to live. She’ll tell us everything.” 

“ Can I play in it, Glenn ? ” asked little Dick anx- 
iously. 

“ Play in it ? You ? Sure you can ! ” Glenn an- 
swered him with his wide smile. “ I reckon ’twouldn’t 
be the right kind of an orchestra for us, if you couldn’t 
play in it.” 

‘‘ I think we’d better go and ask Mrs. Carter now, 
don’t you, ISTancy?” suggested Marguerite. “If we 
wait for them to stop talking we’ll have to wait for- 
ever ! ” 

Glenn was urged into the foreground when the chil- 
dren went back to Wind-Away Lodge, and stood wait- 
ing for a pause in the conversation, so that they might 
insert a few words. Mrs. Carter, turning, saw the 


136 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

merry Irish eyes fixed admiringly on her, and held out 
her hand. 

“ Gome and shake hands with me again,” she said. 
“ The first time was just for politeness ; let’s do it for 
real friendliness this time, and then tell me whatever 
it is that’s almost running off the tip of your tongue.” 

Glenn’s eyes brimmed with fun and admiration mixed 
with daring. 

“ I’m set to ask you something,” he said, “ but when 
I looked at you, I fair forgot what it was I was to say, 
for thinking of what I was looking at,” and he ducked 
his head in a funny little bow. 

“ Bravo ! ” said Jack under his breath, and the Ad- 
miral looked at Glenn with surprised interest. 

“ I declare that wasn’t a bad compliment,” said the 
General to Mrs. Compton ; “ not bad at all.” 

But Mrs. Carter’s eyes sparkled with delighted ap- 
preciation, and, rising, she dropped a curtsey to the 
little newsboy, still holding his hand, so that she gave 
the effect of a quaint and stately figure in the minuet. 

“ I shall tell that to my husband,” she said gaily as 
she released Glenn’s hand and resumed her seat. “ I 
shall tell him he’ll have to think very hard to make 
me a prettier compliment than that. Say on, Sir 
Knight. Ask any favor you like.” 


137 


At Wind- Away Lodge 

Nancy and Marguerite listened with eager ears. 
They could not talk that way themselves, but they 
liked to hear Mrs. Carter do it. Ted and Koger, on the 
other hand, regarded it as a foolish preliminary to a 
matter of vital interest, while little Dick was frankly 
impatient. Having attached himself to his mother’s 
chair, he besought her influence in a piercing whisper. 

“ Mother,” he begged, “ can’t you stop them talking 
that way, and ask Glenn to hurry up ? ’Cause I heard 
Aunt Sylvia rattling the teacups, and time’s going 
faster and faster, and he hasn’t told anything yet ! ” 

Then, the whisper having reached everybody’s ears, 
they all laughed and when the laugh was over Glenn 
began the story which led to the formation of the 
Camp Wind-Away Orchestra, an organization which 
gave much amusement to its members, and a concert 
which was reported at great length in the Potterville 
Clarion / but that came weeks later, near the close of 
the summer, and between while many things happened. 


CHAPTER XII 


GLENN TALKS TO THE ADMIRAL 

Glenn enjoyed the life at Camp "Wind- Away in 
every particular. He learned to dive and to swim, to 
row and to paddle, to fish and to hit a target. He 
studied and recited and looked up troublesome words 
in. the big dictionary in the library at the Beaumont 
house, with the same zest that he gave to play. 

“ You like to do everything, it seems to me, my 
boy,” said the Admiral one day, when Glenn had been 
poring over an old encyclopaedia, searching for infor- 
mation about a kind of ship which the Admiral had 
mentioned in general conversation that afternoon. 
“ Jack tells me you’re an enthusiast over all the sports, 
and the General says you drill as if you meant to be 
commander of an army some day.” 

Glenn colored, but looked at the old man smiling. 

Sure, sir, I do like everything,” he said frankly. 
‘‘ Seems to me there isn’t anything but what’s fun if 
you do it hard enough. Some o’ the newsboys used to 
get grouchy and tired, standing ’round waiting for 
their customers, but I used to be running, running to 
138 


Glenn Talks to the Admiral 


139 


meet mine, or after ’em, if they got when I was 
across the street, and I never was tired to hurt me. 
’Twas so interd 525 ing, sir. Don’t you think folks and 
things are awful inter^^zJing, Admiral ? ” 

“Perhaps they are,” said the old man, wistfully. 
“ I’ve not mingled with many people of late years, you 
see, my boy ; living so far away from the world and all 
its doings, and from all my friends, I have rather a 
dull life. That is why we went to the city last winter 
— so that I^’ancy should not grow into narrow ways, 
and have no opportunities for enlarging her views and 
her knowledge.” 

Glenn looked at him with a puzzled face, a little 
frown drawing his black eyebrows together. 

“ I don’t understand,” he said slowly. “ Of course I 
know how ’tis about the school, because Nancy told 
me, and I think it’s all right, but seems to me this is 
the most beautiful place in the world for her to be in 
most o’ the time, and I know Nancy thinks so. And 
there’s Potterville full o’ folks. Admiral, and all kinds ! 
I was talking about the city one day to one o’ the 
doctors at the hospital and telling him how I won- 
dered what kind of folks there’d be here, and he 
laughed and said, ‘Why, all kinds, same as in the 
city! Didn’t you know that? You match ’em up 


140 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

when you get there, and see if I haven’t told you the 
truth.’ And he had, Admiral — sure as you live, he 
had ! I’ve been to Potterville with Mr. Jack, and with 
J^ancy and Aunt Sylvia, and once with Sylvanus — and 
every time I’ve seen different kinds of folks. And 
they’re all good friends o’ yours, sir. They’re always 
inquiring about you, real particular.” 

“ Yes, they’re all very kind,” said the Admiral, “ very 
kind.” 

He sat looking at the boy, wondering if the differ- 
ences in social standing which exist in the world would 
ever disturb him. Glenn was aware that there were dif- 
ferences, the Admiral knew, but he seemed to consider 
them of no special importance, and that was not a mat- 
ter for much surprise, considering his own sudden trans- 
planting to a different world from the one in which he 
had lived since babyhood. The Admiral leaned his 
head against the back of his chair and gazed so thought- 
fully at him that Glenn flushed a little. 

“ How about this Socialism that Haney flnds so much 
in evidence in the newspapers, my boy ? ” mused the Ad- 
miral ; “ have you heard or thought anything about it ? 
I suppose you are too young. You seem to have had 
such wide experience of life in some ways that I 
wondered if you had ever come in touch with it.” 


Glenn Talks to the Admiral 141 

‘‘ Oh, yes, sir,” answered the boy, “ I’ve heard a lot 
about it, ever since I was a little kid — before I knew 
what it meant. I have a good many friends in it. I’ve 
been to some of their meetings.” 

“ Indeed,” and the Admiral looked rather disturbed. 
“ Well, what is your opinion of them ? ” 

Glenn frowned thoughtfully for a minute. 

“ I’ll tell you. Admiral,” he said slowly ; “ I haven’t 
got words to explain just the way I feel about it, but 
seems to me it’s part wrong and part right, the way the 
Socialists work it, and seems to me if folks really 
understood each other — the rich folks and the poor 
folks, the little ones and the big ones, the smart ones 
and the slow ones, there wouldn’t be any need of 
Socialists. Seems to me it’s something like Eddy 
Kopp and me settling about our newspaper routes. He 
thought I was trying to do him out of his chance be- 
cause he was new, and I thought he was trying to grab 
what belonged to me, and come to find out when we 
sat down one each side of Mr. Bergstein (that’s the big 
cop, and he knows German and English both), and he 
heard iboth sides and explained my talk to Eddy and 
his to me, we got it all settled in fifteen minutes, and 
there was room enough for both of us. Seems to me 
this country needs more folks that can see both sides.” 


142 The Admirar s Tittle Companion 

“ Ah,” said the Admiral, “ I think I’ve heard some- 
thing like that said before.” 

“ Oh, I reckon I haven’t thought up anything new,” 
laughed Glenn ; “ but say, Admiral, there’s something 
you can do that I’ll bet you’ve never thought of, or 
you’d have done it long ago. I was speaking to Mr. 
Jack about it yesterday, and he said I’d better mention 
it to you when I had a good chance.” 

“ Ah,” said the Admiral again. He had begun to 
notice that Jack made a great many opportunities for 
throwing the boy and his grandfather into each other’s 
company. “Yery well, this is what Jack would un- 
doubtedly call a good chance ; there is no one to disturb 
us.” 

“ It’s like this. Admiral,” said Glenn leaning forward 
eagerly. “ It’s a long walk from Potterville to Beau- 
mont Corners by the road, but by the river it’s not 
more than half as long. And the trees grow along the 
edge of the river, you know, but back of them there’s a 
kind of a scrubby place, all the way along, between 
them and the woods, as far as your land goes ; and be- 
low your land, way down to the first bridge in the 
town, there are fields or pastures stretching down to the 
river. Well, sir, as Mr. Jack and I said, if you’d let us 
boys and some of the town boys clear out the bushes 


Glemi Talks to the Admiral 143 

and things that don’t amount to anything, there could 
be a path all along the edge of the river to what Mr. 
Jack calls your lower woods.” 

The Admiral nodded, as Glenn paused, evidently 
expecting some response. He was not by any means 
prepared to speak, being filled with a mixture of indig- 
nation and amazement. 

“ And then we could make a first-class picnic grove 
by trimming out a place in the woods,” Glenn’s eager 
voice went on, “ and Saturday afternoons and Sunday 
afternoons all summer long, way from May till Novem- 
ber, Mr. Jack says, that grove would be a grand place 
for the Potterville folks to sit and rest and get cool and 
watch the sky and the river. I think maybe the Gen- 
eral would give a couple of boats when he knows about 
it ; he likes to give things to folks. And Mr. Jack 
said it would be a boon — that’s what he called it. Ad- 
miral. And of course the folks would be so pleased 
they’d be careful and not throw papers around, or make 
fires or anything like that. What do you think of it. 
Admiral ? ” asked the boy, for he had begun to re- 
alize that the old man’s silence might bode ill for his 
plans. 

“ I’d like to know two things,” said the Admiral 
drily. “ First, who thought of this plan, and second. 


144 Admiral' s h,ittle Companion 

why any one should suppose 1 would for one moment 
wish to carry it out, or have it carried out ? ” 

The boy’s eyes were filled with wonder. 

“ I reckon Mr. Jack and I thought of it together,” 
he said ; “ I reckon we did, but I think I was the one 
that spoke it out first. And — why. Admiral — anybody 
that’s doing all you’re doing for me — why, I thought 
you’d be awful glad to do it — honest I did — just as 
soon as you knew it could be done. And — and I asked 
Mr. Jack if he didn’t think you’d let me patrol the 
grounds, picnic days, to see there wasn’t any rubbish, 
and help look after the little kids so their fathers and 
mothers could rest and — don’t you like it. Admiral ? ” 

The old man looked at the little flushed face from 
which the big Irish eyes at once questioned and trusted 
him, and into his own eyes, held by the boy’s, there 
came an expression which not even Nancy or Jack had 
ever seen there. He held out his hand to Glenn. 

“ There’s no doubt I shall like it — and a great many 
other things — before you’ve done with me, my lad,” 
he said as Glenn stood, waiting for his verdict. “ Now 
go and see if you can find Nancy and send her to me. 
Tell her there’s something I wish to talk over with 
her.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


A ROADSIDE CALL 

Nancy and Marguerite were riding out of Potter- 
ville, side by side, their horses close together, taking a 
leisurely gait, for the day was still warm although the 
sun was getting low. The two friends had been talk- 
ing of Glenn and his plans and the surprising fact that 
the Admiral had not only agreed to them but was 
quite irritated with any one who ventured to raise the 
least objection on any grounds, whatever he might 
have said himself, in times past. 

“ He’s always worried about fire,” said Nancy ; “ al- 
ways been afraid that a match might be dropped some- 
where in the woods, or a cigar might be thrown away 
still lighted and set fire to the pine-needles, and so the 
woods might be burned. But when your father spoke 
of the possibility of fire, yesterday. Marguerite, did 
you hear what grandfather said ? ” 

Marguerite nodded, smiling mischievously. 

“ Indeed I did,” she said ; “ he told father that the 
trouble was he didn’t have trust enough in people! 
Father ! And mother’s always saying it’s a wonder to 
145 


146 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

her he isn’t cheated every day of his life, because he’s 
so ready to believe in everybody from the beggars on 
the street to the telephone operator when she tells him 
‘ the line is busy ’ and he hnows it isn’t ! I think it was 
pretty hard for father to bear that, E'ancy.” 

“ It would have been if he hadn’t laughed,” said 
Nancy. “ Oh, Marguerite, you don’t realize what a 
blessing you have in all being able to laugh, in your 
family, even when the joke is a little bit turned against 
you ! Grandfather is amused by things, very often, 
and he has me read him books that he says are very 
witty, but he wouldn’t have found anything to laugh 
about if he’d been in your father’s place yesterday, I’m 
very sure.” 

“ Father’s an old dear,” said Marguerite, “ and he’s 
as happy as he can be this summer to be in a camp, 
and with friends he’s known so long, and to have the 
boys getting on so splendidly with their studies. He 
considers your brother Jack a very fine tutor, Nancy.” 

“ Oh, thank you,” said Nancy. “ It does seem as if 
nobody could help learning with Jack for teacher.” 

“ And then he’s so good in athletics,” Marguerite 
went on ; “ father is delighted about that. Ted has 
grown nearly half an inch taller since we came up here, 
and so has Roger. And another thing, father is very 


A Roadside Call 


>47 


much interested in Glenn. He thinks that boy has a 
future before him, Haney — he told me so. When 
father got that long awful splinter in the palm of his 
hand the other day, he said Glenn took it out as if 
he’d been the best surgeon in the land, and then band- 
aged father’s hand beautifully. Father said he wished 
Glenn might have been an army surgeon in his regi- 
ment.” 

“ I think that’s a splendid compliment,” said Haney. 
“ And he told me that Glenn was doing finely with 
the target practice. I haven’t ever seen him shoot, 
because I’m always reading to grandfather then, and I 
don’t mind, for I’d rather not hear firing, ever ; it 
makes me jump.” 

“ So it does me,” said Marguerite, “ but I like to 
Jump. When September comes they’ll go hunting, 
they say — father and your brother and the boys — and 
then we’ll have wild game, partridge and pigeons, and 
lovely wings for our winter hats, too.” 

Haney’s eyes were troubled, and the fingers of her 
right hand moved slowly back and forth on Jessie’s 
silken mane. 

“ I’d rather never have any,” she said in a low voice. 
“ I hate to have birds killed, Marguerite. It seems as 
if they had as much right to live as you or I have, 


148 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

although grandfather says it is ridiculous for me to 
feel that way. Sometimes the shot doesn’t even kill 
them at once, and they suffer, Marguerite ! ” 

‘‘ I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all, E'ancy dear,” 
said Marguerite warmly, “ but I’m quite sure no boy 
would ever agree with you. Ted is perfectly wild for 
the hunting season to come — and you know Ted is not 
one bit cruel.” 

‘‘ Oh, no,” said Nancy hastily, “ no indeed ! Ted is a 
very kind boy. But ” 

“ Now what is my little friend Miss Nancy Beau- 
mont saying ‘ but ’ in such a sorrowful tone ? ” came 
from the roadside, and the two children drew rein at 
the sight of Mr. Sigourney, who was seated at his ease 
on a camp-stool, eating blueberries from a heavily laden 
bush while at a little distance two blue gingham sun- 
bonnets bobbed up and doAvn, and there was the 
sound of two voices. 

“We are having a home-road picnic, young ladies,” 
said Mr. Sigourney. “ I am sorry I cannot remove my 
hat and make a sweeping bow, but to tell the truth I 
have mislaid it among these fascinating bushes. May 
I call your attention to the ladies of my party, hidden 
under those sunbonnets ? At present, viewed through 
the bushes, they look precisely alike, but I assure you 


A Roadside Call 


49 


they are not; one has the honor to be my mother, 
while the other is your friend Miss Desdemona Mac- 
donald. Will you dismount and join us ? I can olfer 
you a couple of very choice bushes.” 

“ I’m afraid we mustn’t stop, Mr. Sigourney,” said 
Nancy, dimpling with laughter, “ for we told grand- 
father we’d be home before dark. How do you do, 
Mona ? Is this your first blueberrying ? ” 

“My very first,” said Desdemona, displaying a 
flushed face, and two indigo lips, as she came close to 
Jessie and held her pail up for Nancy to take some 
berries, while Mrs. Sigourney offered the same courtesy 
to Marguerite. “ Haven’t we had good luck ? Just 
taste my berries, Nancy. To-morrow morning we are 
to have blueberry cake for breakfast — and I am to 
make it, by Mrs. Sigourney’s best recipe. Think of 
that ! I hope it won’t be heavy as lead ! ” 

“ I’m sure it will be light as a feather,” said Nancy, 
but Desdemona was not ready to take such a hopeful 
outlook. 

“ My cooking isn’t usually,” she said darkly. “ Oh, 
Nancy, I’ve thought of a new instrument for our 
Kitchen Orchestra! Listen now, while I tell you 
about it, and see if you don’t think it would be a great 
addition. I’m afraid there isn’t time to do it for to- 


150 The AdmiraV s Tittle Companion 

morrow night, but if we have a concert, as your 
brother said we should, later on — you just listen 
now ! ” 

Nancy listened and laughed and approved. 

“I think you were very bright to have that idea, 
Mona,” she said cordially. “ I’m sure the General 
would like to hear — no, to see it.” 

“ / think he’d like to play it,” said Desdemona, “ and 
as long as we’ve tried to keep to-morrow night’s 
serenade a secret from him — though I’m pretty sure he 
suspects about it, only he doesn’t want to spoil our 
fun — but as long as it’s supposed to be a secret, I think 
I’U save this idea, and tell it just to him, for a secret, 
so he can surprise his family when we give the concert. 
Don’t you think he’d be a splendid one to play it, being 
so big ? And I can teach him to whistle whatever 
tunes Mrs. Carter decides on ; he catches tunes so 
quickly — and then he could just appear at the concert I 
Wouldn’t it be fun, Nancy ? ” 

“Yes, I think it would, if he’s willing, Mona,” said 
Nancy after a second’s hesitation. “ Of course the 
General is a prominent man and he has a great deal of 

dignity in public. Jack says, and ” 

Desdemona waved all these objections out of sight 
with a sweep of her pail which sent a good many 


A Roadside Call 


berries flying, and drew the attention of Marguerite, to 
whom Mrs. Sigourney and her son had been talking. 

“ Is that a signal to tell us it’s time for us to start, 
Mona ? ” asked Marguerite. “ I suppose we must, 
jN'ancy, mustn’t we ? ” 

“Don’t breathe it to a soul, Nancy,” cautioned 
Desdemona, as she bent, pretending to straighten a 
fold of her friend’s riding-skirt. “ Do you suppose your 
grandfather would like to play ? No, you needn’t an- 
swer ; I’d never dare ask him, anyway.” 

“ I hope she wouldn’t dare,” thought Nancy a little 
anxiously, for she wished very much to have her grand- 
father like Desdemona, and felt quite sure that such a 
request would be far from pleasing to him. Fond as 
Nancy was of the Admiral she had always been a little 
afraid of rousing his displeasure, although she had 
braved it on some notable occasions, but this was not a 
case of necessity. As Desdemona released Nancy’s 
skirt, she had whispered, “ You can tell Marguerite, 
if she’ll promise not to let it go any farther; she 
could help us plan;” and of this permission Nancy 
promptly availed herself. 

“ I hated to tell Mona your father might not like her 
asking him,” said Nancy. “Grandfather and Jack 
have both told me he is a very important person, 


152 The Admiral's Liittle Companion 

Marguerite, and perhaps he would not think it was 
proper for Mona to ask him,” and ISlancy looked rather 
distressed at the thought until Marguerite’s laugh reas- 
sured her. 

“ Father ! he’d love it ! ” cried the General’s daughter. 
“ You’ve never seen him down at the seashore, Nancy, 
taking part in a potato race, and all the other sports. 
Father says dignity is no good at all if a little fun in- 
terferes with it. He isn’t a bit afraid of what any one 
says about him — ever, and he never has any reason to 
be,” added Marguerite with decision. ‘‘ Is Mona plan- 
ning any instrument for your grandfather ? Don’t 
look so horrified, Nancy dear. I truly don’t see why 
an admiral is any better than a general.” 

“ Oh, it isn’t that,” said Nancy, “ not at all, Mar- 
guerite ; of course an admiral is no better than a gen- 
eral ; it’s only that grandfather is so different ! Mona 
herself said she wouldn’t dare ask him.” 

“ Well — I don’t believe she’d better,” said Marguerite 
after some moments of thought. “I wouldn’t quite 
dare to, myself.” 

Even the General’s views coincided with theirs, when 
— the birthday serenade being safely over, and the 
members of the orchestra seated in the moonlight, with 
their instruments leaning against the trees — Desde- 


A Roadside Call 


»53 


mona found an opportunity to speak to him. The Gen- 
eral was supposed to be expressing special thanks to her 
for a little sketch she had made of Dick in his khaki 
suit, with his hand raised to his curly head, making a 
salute. In reality, after the first few words of thanks, 
the General was listening with growing amusement to 
her plans for his becoming a member of the Kitchen 
Orchestra. Once such a hearty laugh broke from him 
that the Admiral, half-way home, leaning on the arm 
of Sylvanus, stopped to listen. 

“ There’s no mistaking that laugh,” muttered the Ad- 
miral as he began again to climb the slope, leaning 
heavily on Sylvanus. ‘‘ Ouch — that old pain ! I 
can’t do this again, in the night air, warm though it 
is.” 

“ Seems as though there was a sound of pursuance, 
Adm’ral,” said Sylvanus. “Don’t you observe it, 
sah ? ” 

“What,” said the Admiral impatiently, but he 
stopped to listen again. “ Why — yes — certainly some 
one is running after us. I hope nothing has happened. 
I hardly like the notion of Kancy’s staying down in the 
woods all night, even so well protected. I doubt 
very much if her grandmother would have approved.” 

“ ’Tain’t but a few minutes since we left her sitting 


154 Admiral' s L,ittle Companion 

right safe on a bench, Adm’ral,” ventured Sylvanus. 
“ Couldn’t much happen in ” 

“ Anything can happen in ten minutes,” said the Ad- 
miral fiercely. “ You talk without sense. Ah — well, 
my boy, what is it ? What is it ? Anything wrong ? ” 
as Glenn’s little figure appeared in the moonlight, run- 
ning. 

“ Is'o, sir,” he called before he reached the two who 
were waiting for him. “ Oh, no^ Admiral, everything 
is all right. ’Twas just — I kind of thought I’d like to 
go up to the house with you, and sit on the piazza for 
a minute, and see how it looks in the moonlight — the 
woods and everything. There’s such a lot of them 
there, they won’t miss me. I told Mr. Jack I was 
coming.” 

The Admiral bent his head and closely scrutinized 
the upturned face which the moonlight showed him 
clearly. 

“ You thought I’d be lonely, eh ? ” he questioned. 
“ Wasn’t that it ? ” 

“ I — I was feeling a bit lonely myself, Admiral,” 
said the boy, not begging the question, but giving the 
old man’s thought a twist while he spoke what was 
evidently the truth. “ They’re all awful good to me, 
but they all belong together somehow, and I don’t be- 


A Roadside Call 155 

long with ’em, Admiral, not exactly — you know how ’tis. 
I don’t belong anywhere really — not yet; but I’m 
going to, some time, and it’ll be all thanks to you, Ad- 
miral. So I thought of something I’d like to tell you 
about and — did I scare you. Admiral? I’m awful 
sorry.” 

“ Scare me ! ” echoed the Admiral. “ No, of course 
not. But don’t try running up-hill again as fast as 
that, yet a while. Wait till you’re a bit stronger. 
Oh, yes, yes, I know you feel strong as ever, but 
take a little more leisurely gait, my boy, just to 
please me. And now we’ll start again, Sylvanus. 
And we’ll go rather slowly, so that my young friend 
can regain his breath. And when we reach the piazza, 
Glenn, there are things I shall wish to say to you. 
Even if I can’t recall them all, it will make no differ- 
ence. I’m an old man — an old man, Glenn, my boy, 
and I forget many things — but never my friends, old or 
young. Never my friends ! We’U look out over the 
meadows together, and then neither of us need be 
lonely.” 


CHAPTEK XIV 


THE PEIZE WINNER 

De Admiral cert’nly does take a powerful lot o’ 
int’rest in dat boy, my lamb,” said Aunt Sylvia the 
next afternoon, as she brushed and brushed Xancy’s 
hair which she had been washing. 

Xancy had discovered early that morning that some- 
thing was making Aunt Sylvia very sober, and it did 
not take the little girl long to find out exactly where 
the trouble lay ; she had, in fact, been afraid from the 
first that her old mammy’s jealousy would be roused 
when it came to Xancy’s spending a night in Wind- 
Away Lodge, under the care of Mrs. Dole. It had 
taken a good deal of coaxing, and a good many sighs 
over the dusty state of her hair, before Xanoy could 
bring a smile to the black face and chase the somber 
look from the great dark eyes. But now Aunt Sylvia, 
cajoled and petted back to happiness, was in her ele- 
ment. From her station behind Xancy’s chair, in a 
gunny window, she looked down to a shady corner of the 
piazza where sat the Admiral and Glenn, close together. 

“ He cert’nly takes a pow’ful lot o’ int’rest in dat 
156 


The Prize Winner 


157 


boy,” repeated Aunt Sylvia. “ Las’ night, honey, when 
I was gwine ’round seeing if eberyt’ing was straight 
in de house, an’ hunting up dat Julia Frost cat, so she 
wouldn’t be sojering round, crying out and ’sturbing 
Mis’ Gen’l Compton’s headache, dere was dose two, 
sitting ’bout de same as dey is now, and talk, talk, talk- 
ing, and laughing out, too — kind ob under dere breafs, 
honey, but ’twas sure fo’ true laughing, all de same. 
Mos’ an hour dey sat dere ! I had to fotch ’Yanus 
awake fo’ times, so’s to hab him ready when de Ad- 
miral ’cided to go to bed ! Ain’ dat s’prising doings ? ” 

“ Yes, it is,” said Nancy, “ but, oh, it’s very pleasant 
doings, too. Aunt Sylvia, for I was so afraid grand- 
father might feel lonely and a little bit left out of 
things, this summer, because he isn’t strong enough to 
join in everything the way the General does. I’ve 
tried to think about him all the time — I mean, not to 
let him be alone — and now, sometimes he sends me off 
when I don’t feel as if I ought to go, and when I come 
back. I’ll find Glenn has been here, and grandfather 
hasn’t had a minute’s chance to be lonely, even if the 
General has been down in the camp writing letters, or 
off somewhere else.” 

“ M-m,” said Aunt Sylvia. “ He’s got consid’rable 
reasoning in his haid, dat boy. He kind ob reasong 


158 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

t’ings out, an’ reasons ’em out de way he finks ’twould 
be good if dey was — an’ den he sets to work an’ makes 
’em dat-a-way, near as he’s able — an’ dat’s apt to be 
pretty near, honey. He’s tooken notice ob de Admiral, 
an’ he’s tooken notice ob you, an’ he’s got a kind ob a 
system fo’ securing you all de good times he finks you 
ought to hab. M-m. Yo’ Aunt Sylvia knows. Igabe 
dat boy free extry large big cookies yest’day. He 
don’ know what for — but I knows. M-m ! ” 

“ You dear Aunt Sylvia, I might have known you’d 
see just what a kind boy he is,” said Haney gratefully. 
“ Everybody — even Mrs. Compton — thought it was an 
‘ experiment ’ inviting him here to stay all summer, but 
it’s turning out beautifully, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Got to hab ’speriments in dis worl’ or else we don’ 
get nowhar ’cepting whar we is at de start,” and Aunt 
Sylvia looked very wise. “And speaking of ’speri- 
ments, honey, dar’s two ob ’em coming right along 
pretty soon. De firs’ one is dat Potterville picnic an’ 
de Orchesrial Concert, an’ de secon’ one, daf 11 come, 
come hefd^ de firs’ one, ’less’n I’s mightily mistooken, is 
a reg’lar rarin’, tarin’ downpour o’ rain fo’ two, three 
days — maybe fo’, five days — maybe a whole week. 
How you fink dose Camp Wind- A way folks gwine 
take dat, eh ? ” 


The Prize Whinner 


159 


“ Oh, Aunt Sylvia, what makes you think of such a 
thing ? ” asked l!^^ancy, turning her head to look out on 
the sunlit meadows. “ I can’t see a cloud anywhere. 
And we’ve been having such lovely weather, day after 
day.” 

“Dat’s why we got to hab de rain, honey,” said 
Aunt Sylvia, gentle but relentless. You don’ want 
de crops all drying up in de groun’, do you ? Ob co’se 
you don’t. An’ de way I know de rain’s coming is by 
my ole bones, honey ; dey’s been a-grinding an’ a-grind- 
ing now fo’ mos’ two days. Somet’ing big’s got to 
come out’n de clouds when my ole bones acts dat-a-way, 
dat’s de truf.” 

‘‘ Oh, Aunt Sylvia, I wish I could do something to 
stop their aching,” said Nancy. “ I do wish I could ! 
And grinding ! that must be an awful pain ! J ust 
think, Aunt Sylvia, I haven’t ever had any real pain 
in my life.” 

“ Time enough, honey,” said her old mammy, brush- 
ing the soft hair with swift, long strokes, and smiling 
to herself with pride as it gleamed like gold in the sun. 
“ Plenty time fo’ ole Pain to ketch you some day. 
Hope de good Lawd’ll make it long time off.” 

“ Thank you,” said Nancy. “ I hope He will, Aunt 
Sylvia, because He must know I’m not very brave.” 


i6o The AdmiraV s Little Companion 

Huh ! ” and her mammy looked indignant. “ Brave 
enough, you is ! Don’t talk like dat to yo’ ole Aunt 
Sylvy, kase she knows. Dere’s mo’ t’ings dan pain to 
be brave ’bout, in dis trialsome work.” 

“ Oh, I think it’s a beautiful world,” said Haney. 
“ Aunt Sylvia, isn’t my hair pretty nearly dry so you 
and I could go for a little walk in the garden as soon 
as I’m dressed, and see how the ambrosia is coming on ? ” 

It seemed a very beautiful world to Haney that day, 
and it still seemed beautiful the next morning, when 
she woke to hear the steady drip, drip of the rain on 
the roof. Mrs. Compton was a little disturbed, not 
about the General who never paid the least attention to 
weather, or about Ted or Koger ; but Dick was not 
quite as strong or as accustomed to being out in storms 
as the older boys. Marguerite had been persuaded by 
Mrs. Sigourney to spend the night before at the bun- 
galow. 

“ I hope the tent doesn’t leak,” she said rather 
anxiously to Haney at breakfast. “ I shall be glad to 
hear Sylvanus’s report when he comes back, for it must 
have rained very hard in the night, to judge from the way 
everything looks this morning. Shall you go down to 
the camp later in the morning, Haney ? Or is it too 
wet ? ” 



SHE BLEW HER WHISTLE 






8y3'.-.?.' 


t „ V «., ■ 


The Prize Winner i6i 

“ Oh, no, I love to go out in the rain,” said ITancy, 
“ though I know grown people don’t, on account of 
their long skirts. Mrs. Carter says she always wishes 
she were a little girl again, when rainy days come.” 

“ Long skirts are one of the bothers that grown peo- 
ple have to bear,” and Mrs. Compton smiled across the 
table at the Admiral, who was not eating much break- 
fast. 

“ Yes,” he replied absently. “ I have no doubt that 
is true. Nancy, when you go down, will you say to 
Glenn that I have been thinking over the matter we 
talked of yesterday, and have decided to do as he 
suggested? Tell him when he is by himself, my 
dear.” 

In spite of herself, Nancy’s eyes opened very wide, 
as she gave her promise. It was the first time she 
could remember her grandfather’s having a secret with 
any young person except herself. Seeing her expres- 
sion, the old man’s eyes brightened, but he made no ex- 
planation. 

Kosy cheeked and laughing, with the rain dripping 
from her oilskin coat and cap, Nancy ran down to the 
camp. She blew her whistle as she approached and 
heard not only the shrill sound made by the Compton 
boys and Glenn in reply, but two other unmistakable 


i 62 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

calls, one from Marguerite’s little silver whistle, the 
counterpart of her own, and the other a wonderful trill 
from Desdemona’s lips. Before she reached the end of 
the path she was met by two other little figures dressed 
exactly as she was. 

“We got ahead of you,” cried Desdemona, dancing 
up to her. “ I am not to paint this morning, because 
it’s so dark, and when Marguerite said she must come 
back and Mr. Sigourney said he’d bring her in his run- 
about, Mrs. Sigourney said Marguerite might wear her 
oilskin — isn’t it lucky Mrs. Sigourney’s so short ? — and 
she thought we’d Like the fun of walking. And we 
did, of course! The road is getting so nice and 
squishy, and there are puddles everywhere. Mrs. Si- 
gourney’s rubbers are a little bit large for Marguerite, 
so we tied them on, and one of the strings came untied, 
and I stepped on it and pulled off one rubber in one of 
the muddiest places, and Marguerite had to stand on 
one foot tiU I got it back for her. ISTancy, what shall 
we do to-day ? Because if you haven’t any special 
plans I have one — here — in this bag,” and she swung a 
long oilskin bag into view. 

“ I haven’t any plans,” laughed Nancy, “ and that 
bag looks very interesting. What is in it, Mona ? ” 

“ Materials to make pictures, for all of you,” said 


The Prize Winner 


163 

Desdemona gaily. “ Don’t look so discouraged, Mar- 
guerite ; you can make this kind of pictures, probably 
just as well as I can. Mr. Sigourney is coming, by and 
by, to act as judge, and I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if 
one of you got the prize — I don’t know what it’s to be, 
so don’t ask me.” 

By this time the three friends were at Wind- A way 
Lodge where Mrs. Dole greeted them soberly. 

“ Dubersome day, I calls dis,” she announced, as they 
ran into the little living-room and threw off their coats, 
“ an’ de kind o’ day whar ebery step makes a lot o’ 
work,” she added, as she surveyed the tracks on the 
floor, left by muddy rubbers. “ I reckon I shan’t hab 
no chance to sit down an’ res’ my bones, ’specially when 
de boys begins a-tromping in. I see ’em coming now. 
You keep ’em delaying at de do’ jess a minute. Miss 
Nancy, till I mop up dese places, an’ see if dey can’ 
scrape off some ob de wet on de platform.” 

“Pine-needles don’t make mud, Mrs. Dole,” said 
Nancy, smihng at the sober face, and at last receiving 
a smile in return. “We’ll keep the boys outside for a 
minute, and now we’ve taken off our rubbers we shan’t 
muddy your lovely clean floor. I suppose it is pretty 
discouraging.” 

A little recognition of her trials was all Mrs. Dole 


164 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

ever required to raise her spirits. Now she looked at 
Nancy quite cheerfully. 

“Not a mite o’ use being discouraged,” she an- 
nounced, “ and I’s got de kind o’ disp’sition dat raises 
hitself high above de storms, Miss Nancy. Fotch dose 
boys right in hyah, in two minutes.” 

Nancy had an opportunity to deliver her message to 
Glenn almost immediately. His eyes sparkled when 
he heard it, but he did not offer any explanation. 

“ I thought he would,” was Glenn’s only remark, in 
a tone of much satisfaction. “I’m going up to the 
house to see him by and by.” 

“ Oh, Glenn, why don’t you stay up at the house for 
dinner ? ” suggested Nancy eagerly. “ It’s your holi- 
day, and grandfather would be delighted. He said I 
might stay down here for dinner if I liked, for Mrs. 
Compton will be there, and he thought the General 
would go, too. If you were going up that would make 
four at the table — three gentlemen for Mrs. Compton ! 
But perhaps you’d rather not.” 

“ I don’t believe I’ll go for dinner,” said Glenn. “ I 
haven’t got the hang of all the table manners yet, but 
Mr. Jack’s helping me. I’ll tell you what — when din- 
ner’s over, the General will be taking his nap, and then 
I can talk to the Admiral. I’ll go up then for a while. 


The Prize Winner 165 

He doesn’t feel sleepy now till pretty near four o’clock ; 
then all he wants is just a few minutes’ doze, and then 
he’s wide awake as ever. It’s different from what it 
was last year.” 

He reddened under Haney’s wondering eyes, and 
moved his foot back and forth over one of the boards 
in the floor. 

“We talk about all kinds o’ things, the Admiral and 
I,” said Glenn. “ I tell him, and he tells me. We’re 
awful good chums.” 

“ I know you are,” said Haney warmly, “ and I’m 
glad as I can be about it, Glenn. Oh, Mona’s opening 
her bag ! ” 

They all crowded around Desdemona, as she opened 
the bag and spread its contents on the table. There 
were displayed four small boxes of water color paints, 
and eight little brushes. Beside these were a good 
many sheets of white paper, cut into pieces six inches 
square. 

“ How all we need is four or five cups or dishes of 
water,” said Desdemona, as the company silently eyed 
the articles spread before them. “Well, perhaps eight 
things to hold water would be better, because although 
two people can use the same paint-box all right, each 
one really needs a cup to use alone.” 


i66 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

“ Am I going to play this game ? ” asked Dick, who 
sometimes found himself excluded by reason of his age, 
or lack of it. 

‘‘Indeed you are,” Desdemona assured him. “I 
counted on you ; and on you, too,” she added as Jack 
came over the threshold. 

“ But what are we to do with the paints, Mona ? ” 
asked Marguerite, remembering her one lesson in 
sketching from nature. 

“ First, we’ll clear the table,” said Desdemona, and 
at once began the work by setting a pile of books on 
the floor and depositing a work-bag on the lounge. 
“ Then we must all draw up to it, and then I’ll divide 
the sheets of paper among us. I think there are five 
for each of us. Oh, first we’d better get Mrs. Dole to 
give us the cups and dishes for the water.” 

After a good deal of laughter they were at last all 
seated around the big table, and ready for further 
instructions. 

“ Divide your square of paper into three parts, cross- 
wise,” said Desdemona. “You don’t need to be very 
exact about it — only get the thirds pretty nearly equal. 
Here, Dick, I’ll mark yours for you with this little 
pencil, just lightly, so it won’t show after the paint 
is on. How the middle third is to be brushed with 


The Prize Winner 


167 

clear water, so ! ” and Mona illustrated on her own 
square, while the others quickly followed her example. 

“ Get it pretty damp,” said Desdemona, “ and while 
you’re doing it decide what colors you’ll spread on, 
good and wet, for the top third, and what ones for the 
lower third. I’m going to mix green and blue and 
brown for my lower third — that’s the earthy part — and 
red and white and yellow for the upper third — that’s 
the sky part.” 

She was mixing the colors and drawing her brush 
across the paper as she talked, making broad, wet 
bands. 

“ And now,” she said, taking her square from the 
table and holding it first by one corner and then an- 
other, “ you tip it this way, and that way, and every 
way, back and forth, and the colors will run over the 
clear water space, and begin to make queer shapes. 
See ? Don’t those look — like — trees ? ” she asked, as 
by a quick twist she sent a thick stream of green paint 
running up toward the sky. “ Shake it, or do anything 
you like with it, except, you mustn’t touch it with your 
brush after you begin to make the picture by tipping 
it ; that’s the principal rule of the game. Then when 
the picture is done you must name it. I’ve brought 
a lot of thumb-tacks, so we can put all the pictures on 


1 68 The Admiral' s L-ittle Companion 

the wall, and have our exhibition ready when Mr. 
Sigourney comes. He said he’d be here at twelve, and 
‘ if deeply needed and warmly urged,’ maybe he’d be 
persuaded to stay to dinner.” 

“ I’m sure we shall need him,” said Marguerite, “ and 
we’ll urge him, too, shan’t we, Haney ? ” 

“Indeed we will,” said Nancy, heartily. “Mona, 
do we have a certain length of time for our sketches 
or may we take as long as we like to do them ? ” 

“ Why, if we are to have an exhibition, and get it 
ready for Mr. Sigourney by twelve o’clock, we must 
have some time limit, I suppose,” said Desdemona. 
“ How do you think we’d better manage it, Mr. Jack ? ” 
“ It is now half-past ten,” said Jack, consulting his 
watch. “ I should say we might paint — if this enter- 
tainment is called painting — until half-past eleven, 
each one doing as many sketches as possible. The 
naming them will take some minutes, if I’m not mis- 
taken, and it will certainly require a quarter of an hour 
to hang the exhibition to the best advantage. I 
am ready to begin now. May I share your paint-box, 
Nancy ? ” 

Nothing could have pleased Nancy better. She was 
examining the paints with much interest, considering 
their possibilities. 


The Prize Winner 


169 

“ All ready ! ” called Desdemona. “ One, two, 
three — I’ve begun.” 

There never was anything much funnier than the 
Art Exhibition at which Mr. Sigourney gazed with an 
unmoved face, but which sent Haney and Marguerite 
into spasms of laughter, and at which the boys roared. 
Such skies, such rivers and ponds, such trees, shrubs 
and grasses surely were never seen before. It took 
Mr. Sigourney a long time to decide on the prize picture, 
but at last he chose it. 

The name printed under it was “ Camp Wind-Away,” 
and its blue and crimson vegetation bore no resemblance 
to any growth known to nature or science. Mr. Si- 
gourney pointed to it, solemnly. 

“ I have wavered in my choice,” he said, ‘‘ between 
these two charming bits entitled respectively ‘ Midnight ’ 
and ‘ Over the Seas,’ both of which are of the impres- 
sionist school and offer great opportunities for conjec- 
ture. But here, in this sketch I have at last chosen as 
prize-winner, there is more of that direct appeal to the 
heart, in the title, than is to be found in either of the 
other two pictures, attractive though they are. I there- 
fore have the pleasure of awarding the prize to the 
artist of number fourteen, ‘ Camp Wind- A way.’ Will 
he or she kindly step forward ? ” 


170 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

In his hand he held the prize — a huge soda biscuit, on 
the round face of which, in pink frosting, were lettered 
the words “Prizewinner.” He turned it so that all 
the competitors might see, and then smiled down at the 
eager little face of Dick, first artist of Camp Wind- 
Away, crimson with delight. 


CHAPTEE XY 


THE BEAUMONT FOEESTRY LEAGUE 

When the boys heard the plans for making a path 
along the river’s edge from the upper bridge at Potter- 
ville to the woods just below the Camp Wind- A way 
Grove, they were all filled with enthusiasm. 

“ I don’t see why we can’t organize a Forestry As- 
sociation,” said Ted to Jack. “ I’m sure we can get 
enough boys to help us to make a good-sized Associa- 
tion, don’t you think so ? I spoke to Mr. Lamson about 
it yesterday when Glenn and I met him in Potterville, 
and then I made Glenn tell him our plans, and he said 
he knew a dozen boys that would like nothing better 
than to help clear out underbrush. And he says he’ll 
put a little notice in The Clarion every few days, to tell 
how the work is progressing, and ‘ keep our ambition 
at white heat.’ He thinks it’s a great scheme.” 

“All right,” said Jack cordially; “hunt up your 
boys with Mr. Gleason’s help, and invite them to come 
here day after to-morrow — Saturday — to talk over what 
we plan to do. I’ve already secured permission from the 
171 


172 The Admiral's Little Companion 

farmers whose land runs down to the river to have the 
path run across their fields or meadows. They’re all 
ready to contribute a little strip of land for the benefit 
of the town.” 

The next Saturday fourteen boys were carried to 
Camp Wind- A way in Mr. Hobbs’s barge, and by four 
o’clock that afternoon, the Beaumont Forestry League 
was organized and ready for work which they decided 
should begin that very day, to be continued each suc- 
ceeding Saturday until the path was finished, or rather 
until the way for it was cleared, for the path itself 
would be made not by hands and the work of the newly- 
organized league, but by the eager feet of Potterville’s 
men, women and children. Jack thought it might be 
“ ready for treading ” by the latter part of August, and 
it was voted to let the picnic wait until the path 
could be used. 

“ There’ll be lots of folks come, if they can walk, that 
would have to stay at home if they’d got to pay some- 
body to drive ’em here ; won’t there be a lot that 
couldn’t come except by walking ? ” Glenn asked one 
of the Potterville boys, changing his statement to a 
question. 

“ About two-thirds of those that will be crazy to 
come couldn’t afford to pay a cent to get here,” said 


The Beaumont Forestry League 173 

the boy promptly. He was a son of Mr. Hobbs, the 
livery-stable keeper, and well posted on such matters. 

“ Before we begin to work, Mr. Jack, don’t you think 
we’d better kind of line up in front of the Admiral and 
salute him ? ” Glenn asked the president of the league. 
“ He and the General are playing chess out on the 
piazza ; at least that’s where they were when Nancy 
came down to camp a few minutes ago, for I asked 
her.” 

Jack laughed and looked down at Glenn with in- 
stant understanding. 

“ You’re a pair of plotters — you two,” he said. “ Be- 
tween you, I notice my grandfather is well looked out 
for. YTe’!! take a march up to the house and salute the 
Army and Navy, by all means. Attention, members 
of the Beaumont Forestry League. Fall in line, for a 
short march to the house, before field work begins.” 

“ Come,” s£tid Nancy to Marguerite, who was swing- 
ing in a hanfciock, with her eyes half shut, looking very 
lazy and comfortable, “come. Marguerite ; if we run we 
can get there before the boys, and see their salute I 
They can’t march as fast as we can run. Come ! ” 

Marguerite was drowsy when they began to run, but 
wide awake long before they reached the piazza, flushed 
and laughing. 


174 The Admiral's L,ittle Companion 

“ Oh, I^ancy,” she cried as they came in sight of the 
house and slackened their pace to a gentle trot, “ I wish 
I didn’t weigh any more than you do ! Or else I wish 
you weighed as much as I do, so you couldn’t fly over 
the ground the way you do. You make me feel as if 
you were a butterfly and as if I were a — a rhinoceros 
or some very heavy animal ! And I’m not so terribly 
fat, either.” 

“ Poor Marguerite ! ” said Nancy penitently, and she 
put her arm around her friend’s waist. “ I ought to be 
ashamed not to remember you don’t enjoy running. 
Of course you’re not a bit fat ; you’re just plump.” 

“ Thank you,” said Marguerite. “ I will forgive you, 
Nancy, and never mention it again. Here we are at 
last.” 

“Nancy, I’d like to have you step here,” said the 
Admiral chuckling. “ Step up here, my dear, and see 
the position in which I’ve put the General.” 

“ Marguerite, you step this way,” said the General 
briskly, and when his daughter reached his side, he 
pulled her head down and whispered something in her 
ear. 

“ Come, come,” said the Admiral, looking keenly at 
his old friend. “ You think you’ve got me in a corner, 
eh ? Play on, sir ; it is your move.” 


The Beaumont Forestry League 175 

Just what would have happened Nancy and Marguer- 
ite never knew, for at a sudden shrill sound, the Gen- 
eral turned so quickly that his elbow hit the chess 
board and it was overturned. 

“ Aren’t you thankful ? ” Marguerite whispered to 
Nancy as they rescued knights and kings from their 
precarious situations over cracks in the piazza. 

“Indeed I am,” whispered Nancy, “for they both 
wished so much to beat, and they couldn’t, loth. The 
boys came at exactly the right time.” 

The boys were all whistling “ Dixie ” as they came 
up the slope, with Jack at their head, marching two 
by two, little Dick occasionally taking a hop, skip and 
jump to get in step again with Glenn whose marching 
mate he was. The Admiral looked at them in pleased 
surprise. 

When the procession reached the piazza, it stretched 
itself across the lawn, and each boy’s right hand went 
up to his cap. 

“ The Beaumont Forestry League presents its respects 
to the distinguished officers and wishes to state that it 
is ready for action,” called Jack in a ringing voice. 

“Well, well,” said the Admiral and the General 
together, greatly pleased, and again, after a moment, 
as if they had rehearsed the words, “ Well, well ! ” 


176 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

“ Any orders ? ” inquired Jack in a less official tone, 
while the boys dropped their hands, and all grinned 
cheerfully. 

“ You seem to be doing very well without any,” said 
the Admiral. “ I trust the league will meet with no 
insuperable obstacles on the field of its battles, eh. 
General ‘? ” 

“ That would be my wish,” said the General gravely. 
“ The officer in command seems a very competent 
person.” 

“ He does,” said the Admiral, and when at Jack’s word 
the little company wheeled, formed in procession again 
and marched off down the slope to the woods, whistling 
‘‘ The Girl I Left Behind Me,” the Admiral’s eyes fol- 
lowed his grandson wistfully. 

He would have been an ornament to your profession, 
my friend,” said the old man to General Compton. 

“ Yes,” said the General, “ he would, but he’ll be an 
ornament to the legal profession he tells me he intends 
to take up.” 

“Yes,” admitted the Admiral, “he will. You may 
recall the portrait of his great uncle. Judge Beaumont, 
which hangs in the library.” 

“ Certainly,” said the General, “ fine old fellow with 
a pair of very remarkably brilliant eyes.” 


The Beaumont Forestry Teague 177 

“ That is the one,” said the Admiral. “ I wonder — 
have I ever told you the story of the first case he won 
— the case which made him famous when he was only 
twenty-six years of age ? ” 

It was a warm afternoon and the General had been 
thinking it would be pleasant to go up into the cool, 
shady room where his wife sat, waiting for him ; but he 
looked at Nancy’s burning cheeks and her blue eyes, 
unconsciously pleading for her grandfather. 

‘‘ What if I have heard it a few dozen times ? ” 
thought the General. 

He smiled at Nancy and turned to his old friend 
with an unruffled brow, before the pause became em- 
barrassing. 

“It sounds as if it would be a very interesting 
story,” said the General, “and one that would well 
bear repeating even if you had happened to tell it to 
me before. Let me get settled in my armchair — 
there ! Now for the story of Judge Beaumont and his 
first case. Begin at the very beginning, my friend.” 


CHAPTER XYI 

MRS. carter’s secret 

Hancy, Marguerite and Desdemona sat on the lit- 
tle platform which served as a piazza for Wind- Away 
Lodge. 

“ Listen ! ” said Marguerite, holding up one finger. 
“ Did you ever hear anything stiller than this place, in 
all your life ? ” 

“ Way up in the very tops of the pines there’s a little 
rustling,” said Haney softly, when they had sat in si- 
lence for fully three minutes. And there’s a squirrel, 
and there’s a woodpecker. But they’re all very still 
sounds.” 

“ There’s a locust,” said Desdemona in a tone which 
indicated that she found no delight in his song. “ That 
isn’t what I call a very still sound. Isn’t it sizzling 
hot ? I’m glad all the people in our apartment house 
are away, so mother can stay out in the park all day 
if she likes.” 

They were still again for a few moments after that ; 
then Haney put her hand over her mouth, a minute 
more and Marguerite did the same thing ; another 
178 


Mrs. Carter's Secret 


179 

minute and Desdemona’s fingers were not quite quick 
enough to cover a yawn. 

“ There ! we’ve all done it,” she said. “ It’s just be- 
cause it’s so still and warm. The Beaumont Forestry 
Leaguers must be pretty tired, working out in the sun, 
this hot afternoon. But at any rate they’re doing 
something. We are just sitting here, yawning.” 

“ They are working in a shady place to-day, Mona,” 
said Nancy, “ and Jack says two more Saturdays will 
finish the path. Don’t you think it would be nice if 
we had a league and invited some of the girls to come 
from Potterville on Saturday afternoons while the boys 
are making the path ? They could come here to the 
camp the next two Saturdays, and then the third Sat- 
urday we could ask them to come early and help us 
get ready for the picnic. Aunt Sylvia thinks it would 
be a very good idea. And Mrs. Carter would help us 
entertain them. She told me yesterday she’d love to 
do it.” 

“ How will your friend Mrs. Potter feel ? ” inquired 
Desdemona. “ And how shall we entertain them the 
next two Saturdays, Nancy ? ” 

“I don’t believe Mrs. Potter would mind,” said 
Nancy, “ for you know she said last Saturday when 
she came out with Mr. Potter that every Saturday 


i8o The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

afternoon in summer she took her husband off to see 
some of his relations. Don’t you remember she said 
he had so many that they lasted all summer ? ” 

I remember,” said Marguerite. “ She told me 
they were ‘ slighty folks,’ and she had to be very care- 
ful not to offend them by going oftener to see one than 
another.” 

“ So you see she couldn’t come, Mona,” said IS^ancy ; 
“ she has promised to come to the picnic, and that will 
take another Saturday afternoon.” 

“ She’ll have to look out for those ‘ slighty ’ rela- 
tives,” said Desdemona, “ but you haven’t told me 
what we’ll do to entertain the girls, ITanoy.” 

“ I think Mrs. Carter will be certain to have some 
splendid idea,” said Nancy. “ Marguerite and I can 
ride in to Potterville Monday and see her. Wouldn’t 
you like to do that, Marguerite ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” said her friend easily. “ I’d just as soon. 
I admire Mrs. Carter very much, and beside that, fa- 
ther says it’s excellent discipline for me to have to play 
second fiddle occasionally.” 

“ There isn’t any first fiddle if you are the second 
one. Marguerite,” and Nancy looked a little troubled. 
“ I love Mrs. Carter, but she’s grown up, and you’re 
my very ownest friend.” 


Mrs. Carter s Secret 


i8i 

“You dear thing,” and Marguerite hugged her on 
the spot. “ I didn’t mean you made me play second 
fiddle. Isn’t she stupid, Mona ? Stupid but sweet ! ” 

Desdemona’s chin was uptilted and her face had as- 
sumed a very melancholy look, though her eyes, hid- 
den under her Jong lashes, were full of mischief. 

“ Were you speaking to me ? ” she inquired in an in- 
jured tone. “ I thought you had forgotten I was here. 
In another minute I should have begun to whistle 
‘ Forsaken.’ It’s an old folk-song that Mr. Sigourney 
has taught me, and he calls it ‘ a very moving piece.’ 
We whistle it together sometimes when Mrs. Sigourney 
says we really don’t deserve any dinner for being so 
much behind time, when we’ve been painting hard all 
morning. She always begins to laugh before we’ve 
finished it — and then we have something specially good 
for dinner, like shortcake or hot gingerbread or 
waffles.” 

Nancy and Marguerite each put an arm through 
Desdemona’s and assured her that they had not really 
forgotten her for one moment, or at least — with 
Desdemona’s mischief-filled eyes on them — not for 
more than one moment ; so she agreed to forgive them 
both. 

On Monday when Nancy and Marguerite had ridden 


i 82 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

into Potterville, and up to the Carter house, they found 
Mrs. Carter on the piazza, reading a book with a very 
listless air which vanished when she saw her two young 
visitors. 

“ I’ve been skipping page after page,” she cried, 
springing to her feet and greeting them with out- 
stretched hands. “ It is supposed to be a very clever 
book, but I have found it stupid. You little dears ! 
Your faces are full of something interesting ! Do tell 
me what it is.” 

They told her, antiphonally, like a Greek chorus, and 
she listened delightedly. 

“ I know the very thing,” she said, when the recital 
was finished. “ You’U want ever and ever so many 
cushions for the tired mothers to rest their heads on, 
and for the little tots to sit on — some of them, at least. 
I’ll take Mrs. Potter with me some morning this week 
down to the mill, and we’ll choose a lot of ‘ mill-end ’ 
cottons— the pieces that are left from regular lengths, 
you know. Mr. Carter has fitted up a little room close 
to his ofiice for me to go whenever I feel like it; 
sometimes I carry down a luncheon for him, and we 
have it on the table in my little room, and call it a 
picnic. I’ll get him to have a great basket of the mill- 
ends carried there, and then Mrs. Potter and I will 


Mrs. Carter s Secret 183 

look them over and choose what we wish. We’!! take 
all the pretty, fast colors.” 

Her eyes wore the look they always had when she 
was planning something ; Nancy had learned to know 
the look ; she nodded at Marguerite, as they sat, one on 
each side of their hostess, in big wicker chairs, to 
signify that Mrs. Carter would explain, all in good 
time, her connection between mill-ends and entertaining 
their Saturday guests. 

“I’ll provide the materials and stuffing for the 
cushions,” Mrs. Carter went on after a little pause, 
“ and it will mean that I shall be happily rid of a lot of 
old feather pillows that are up in the garret now. 
I’ll have Louise make stout cotton covers, and fill them 
with the feathers. We’ll have some big cushions and 
some little ones. Then, don’t you see, Nancy and 
Marguerite, we and all the Potterville girls you invite 
for the next two Saturdays will make the outside covers. 
We could surely do three apiece each afternoon; that 
would make — how many girls will there be, Nancy ? ” 

“ I think about ten,” said Nancy, after pondering for 
a minute. “ There are nine girls I know better than 
any of the others, and then there’s that dear little 
‘ Car’line ’ who carried the bottle of spring water to 
the station for me to drink while I was on the freight 


184 The Admiral' s Ljittle Companion 

car. She’s younger than the others, but I’d love to 
have her come.” 

“ Come ! Indeed we wouldn’t have her left out for 
anything,” said Mrs. Carter warmly. “ We’ll all ride 
out together in Mr. Hobbs’s barge, and I’ll have little 
Car’line sit beside me. And there’s another part to 
our entertainment, Haney. Come closer, both of you, 
while I tell you something I saw once, and then we’ll 
plan how we can do it even better. And then, when 
I’ve told you, shall I have my horse brought around 
and shall we all three go together to give the invita- 
tions ? May I go, too ? ” 

“ We’d love to have you ! ” cried Haney and Mar- 
guerite together with unmistakable heartiness, as they 
drew their chairs very close to Mrs. Carter’s. 

“ Perhaps we’d best go first to Mrs. Potter,” sug^ 
gested Haney, and Mrs. Carter put her hand over her 
little friend’s and held it there for a moment. 

“We’d best go first to Mrs. Potter’s, of course, you 
little bunch of tact,” she said affectionately ; “ but 
what I’m going to tell you now must be a surprise to 
her, and to everybody else, except dear Aunt Syhda. 
Ah, Haney is glad to hear that exception.” 

“Yes, I am,” said Haney with a little sigh of con- 
tent. “ It just makes everything jperfeot^ Mrs. Carter ! ” 


CHAPTEE XYII 


AT THE RIVER PATH 

During all the happy, busy weeks at Camp Wind- 
Away, there had been scarcely a day on which Glenn 
had not visited Pirates’ Eock. The place had an odd 
fascination for him, which the boy could not explain, 
even to himself. It was not all owing to the story 
Xancy had told, or the many other tales he had since 
heard from the Admiral, Jack and Aunt Sylvia. Al- 
ways, as he sat on the old ledge or walked around it, 
Glenn had a queer feeling that Pirates’ Eock was hiding 
something. 

He had carefully examined every foot of the stone, 
hunting for a possible entrance to the little cave, so 
effectually sealed by the rock wedged in its former 
opening. 

“Better not meddle wid de work ob de Lawd,” 
Aunt Sylvia had admonished him one day, when she 
had heard him tell the Admiral how he had hunted in 
vain. “ When de lightning an’ de funder flung dat 
rock in de hole, ’twas so dat pirates’ works done in de 
185 


i86 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

night would be covered up safe, whar dey couldn’ do 
no harm.” 

“ All right, Aunt Sylvia,” said Glenn merrily. “ I 
can’t meddle with the cave, because I can’t get at it — 
but I’d like to, first rate. I’d like to see if there’s 
anything in there that would be any good for the Ad- 
miral or Nancy. They might blast the rock, but you 
see if they did, whatever’s in there might get blown out 
of sight ; so it’s no use trying that.” 

“ Praise be ! ” said Aunt Sylvia fervently. ‘‘ If you 
want to please de Adm’ral, boy, you put on one of dose 
white collars I give you las’ week, all fresh from de 
iron. De Adm’ral, he jess endures dese Camp Wind- 
’Way flannel collars dat ain’ really collars ’t all, but he 
’spises ’em. You dress up once in a while, no matter if 
you ain’ so comf’ table.” 

“ All right,” said Glenn with his wide smile. “ I 
sure will. Aunt Sylvia,” and he was as good as his 
word. 

Jack tried to laugh Glenn out of his notions about 
the old rock, and before long the boy stopped talking 
about it, except once in a while, to Nancy. Together 
they made up some marvelous tales for their own 
amusement, weaving romances made up of buried treas- 
ure and phantom ships, with old Pirate Kildare as the 


At the River Path 


187 

central figure. Glenn had told stories to other children 
ever since he could talk, and he had a vivid imagina- 
tion and fluent tongue, which were gifts from his Celtic 
forebears, while JSTancy had absorbed legends and fairy 
stories from the time she was old enough to understand 
anything. They were little kindred spirits, these two 
children, spite of all differences in ancestry and up- 
bringing. 

Glenn was as well now as he had ever been, and his 
wiry strength, quite out of proportion to his size, was a 
constant surprise to the other boys and a source of un- 
failing admiration, as well. 

“You can chop longer than I can, without getting 
tired,” said Ted, when they were resting one Saturday 
afternoon, between two stretches of work. “ And you 
don’t weigh as much as I do, by ten pounds.” 

“ I can’t run as fast as you do,” said Glenn, whose 
eyes were ever turned to some mark he had not reached. 
“ What’s chopping ? But say, Ted, I’ve grown another 
quarter inch. Wait till we get back to camp and I’ll 
show you.” 

“ When we go hunting in September, you’ll be way 
ahead of me then, I know,” said Ted. “ You’re twice 
as good a shot as I am, now. What’s the matter ? ” 

A strange expression had crossed Glenn’s face ; one 


i88 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

which Ted had never seen before and could not under- 
stand ; it was almost like fear — yet he knew Glenn was 
not afraid of anything. His courage and daring were a 
byword in the camp. 

“ nothing’s the matter,” said Glenn slowly. “ Only, 
maybe I shan’t go hunting with you.” 

“ Hot go hunting ! ” cried Ted, but at that moment 
Jack gave the whistle that called them back to work, 
and, whether by Glenn’s intention, or by chance, the 
boys were separated, and before they came together 
again Ted’s mind, always easily diverted, had turned 
to other things, and Glenn’s remark had been forgotten 
for the time. 

There was, indeed, enough to drive it effectually 
from Ted’s mind, for the path — the long, tree-shaded, 
river-edged, winding path — was almost finished. A few 
hours more of work, with a little “ skilled labor ” from 
Potterville, bespoken by the General — and the path 
lay, a lovely, completed link, between the smoke-laden, 
hot little mill village and the beautiful, pine-scented air 
of Beaumont Grove. The work of the Beaumont 
Forestry League was over, and two of Potterville’s 
boys, with a final flare of ambition, walked proudly 
back to the upper bridge, tired but well content. 

Half an hour before, the barge from Hobbs’s livery 


At the River Path 189 

stable, Mr. Hobbs himself handling the reins, had set 
down at the end of the Carters’ driveway its load of 
little girls and Mrs. Carter, as young and excited as any 
of them. The second Saturday afternoon at Wind- 
Away Lodge was over, but gleaming brightly before 
them was the prospect of the third Saturday — the day 
on which Beaumont Grove was to be opened ; as a 
weekly privilege it would forever after be free to the 
people of Potterville. And as the inauguration of this 
new delight there was to come the picnic, for which all 
Potterville was preparing, and concerning which each 
little girl had one secret which must be kept, in spite of 
all temptations to divulge it, seven days longer ! Not 
quite seven whole days, however, for it was now nearly 
six o’clock, and the picnic was to begin at two. When 
it is a question of keeping a secret, even four hours’ 
reprieve is well worth considering. 

‘‘ I never had such a good time in my life before, 
really I never did,” cried Mrs. Carter, running up on 
the piazza where her husband sat awaiting her with a 
whimsical smile. “ And best of all, to think I have a 
secret that nobody is to know ! ” 

“ Nobody ? ” queried her husband with raised eye- 
brows. 

Nobody but you,” she answered with a little laugh, 


igo The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

‘‘and you and I don’t count for more than one, do 
we ? ” 

“ I hope not,” said Mr. Carter, “ and this afternoon 
I’ve been a lonesome half of one. May I hear the 
secret now ? ” 

“You may,” and the dark eyes smiled at him. “I 
couldn’t have kept it much longer, anyway. I feel 
like a little girl myself, to-day. Listen ! ” 


CHAPTEK XYIII 


THE PICNIC 

Never had there been a lovelier day at Beaumont 
Corners than the Saturday set for the picnic. The 
Admiral, Aunt Sylvia, Sylvanus, and Mrs. Siren Dole 
had all watched the wind and sky for two days with 
anxiety, but there was no further need for it when 
Saturday came. A deep blue sky, fleecy clouds, and a 
straight west wind — what more could the most ex- 
acting picnicker ask ? 

The morning was all too short for the plans which 
filled the hearts and minds of Potterville housekeepers. 
When the whistle sounded from the big cotton mill, 
at noon, to show that work was over, out trooped the 
men and women, boys and girls, eager to be done with 
dinner and start for their pleasuring. There was 
scarcely a family which was not contributing at least 
one member to the picnic. Many of them were going 
all together, from the father and mother down to the 
newest baby. And all the other Potterville homes 
were sending representatives. Even Mr. Carter had 
promised his wife to drive out to the grove that after- 
191 


192 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

noon, about four o’clock, taking with him two guests 
who had come to visit his wife for a few days. There 
was a little mystery about these guests. They had not 
arrived at Potterville station, but had been met by 
Mr. and Mrs. Carter with their automobile at a station 
some miles away. Even Nancy had not been told 
their names when the picnic day came. 

“ Mr. Carter will bring them out with him,” Mrs. 
Carter had said, absent-mindedly. “ You’ll meet them, 
then. This seemed to be the best time for them to 
come, and I knew they’d be welcome. There come 
Mr. and Mrs. Potter, Nancy, and we haven’t any too 
much time to do the things we must do before any one 
else arrives.” 

Nancy, Marguerite and Desdemona with Mrs. 
Carter, Mrs. Compton and Mrs. Potter to direct them, 
flew about like little sprites for the next hour. At the 
end of that time, just before the clock in the General’s 
tent struck the hour of two, and he offered his arm to 
his old friend the Admiral, the three little girls ap- 
peared at the gap in the wall between Camp Wind- 
Away and the path that led to Beaumont Grove, with 
their allies behind them and announced : 

“ Everything is ready ! Everything is reordy ! 
Come ! ” 



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4 


The Picnic 


193 

After this chorus, with a call from Nancy’s and 
Marguerite’s silver whistles, and a final trill from 
Desdemona’s throat, the young people ran back to the 
grove and stood waiting for their guests. 

“We’d better not have it very formal, my dear,” 
the Admiral had said to Nancy, after a long talk with 
Glenn. “ The General and I will speak to them, of 
course, but just at first they wiU feel more at ease to 
see only you young people, perhaps, with Mrs. Comp- 
ton, who has great tact, and Mrs. Carter whom they 
all know and admire; and Mrs. Potter,” he added, 
“ who is in a way one of them, although a woman of 
rather unusual abilities and gifts, if I may use the 
word.” 

Nancy knew well enough that none of the members 
of the Potterville Woman’s Club would have relished 
her grandfather’s kindly meant words. With the best 
intentions in the world, the old Admiral was unable to 
get in close touch with most of the townspeople. In 
spite of herself Nancy was glad for her grandfather’s 
decision. 

“ They all know us children,” she had said, “ and 
perhaps they will feel a little less strange with us, just 
for the first few minutes.” 

It was only a quarter after two when the first pic- 


194 The Admiral' s Little Coi7ipanion 

nickers arrived. To Nancy’s joy the shy little face of 
her special pet, “ Car’line ” Spencer, was the first to 
appear, as the child, seeing Nancy, ran forward, leav- 
ing her father and mother to follow. 

“ I didn’t know but we’d get here ahead o’ time,” 
said Mrs. Spencer as she shook hands with Mrs. Comp- 
ton. “ I’ve had to lag a little, not to be too far ahead 
of all the rest o’ the folks. Car’line started us full 
early. But I see Mr. Lord and Bartley Pearson are 
pretty close behind. There they come now.” 

“ These are great doings,” said Mr. Pearson, before 
he had greeted any of the company. “ Great doings, 

I must say ! The Adm’ral’s come out o’ his shell for 
good an’ all, and took the populace right into it, hasn’t 
he, now ? ” 

“ Oh, Mr. Pearson, I’m so glad to see you again,” 
said a cool little voice at his ear, and the postmaster 
turned to meet the dancing eyes of Desdemona. 

“ Come over here with me, won’t you, please ? I want 
to introduce you to one of my favorite places in the 
grove. Mrs. Sigourney is there, now.” 

“Pleased to accompany you,” said Mr. Pearson. 

“ I’ve been wanting to meet up with Mis’ Sigourney ^ 
all summer. She must’ve had consid’able trials with 
you two painting folks on her hands.” 


The Picnic 


195 


“ Oh, Mr. Pearson, how unkind ! ” said Desdemona, 
as she led her prize to a place of safety just in time to 
avoid a collision with the Admiral, who at that moment 
entered the grove. “ You almost hurt my feelings.” 

Close on the heels of the first-comers followed the 
long procession of picnickers, all so heartily welcomed 
that the shyest and most silent felt at ease. 

“ Won’t you put your baskets down on one of the 
tables ? ” hTancy said to them all when she had shaken 
hands and told them how glad she was to see them. 
“ Mr. Potter had those splendid strong tables made for 
us, so the baskets need never be put on the ground un- 
til supper time ; and they’ll be useful to play games on, 
too. Then, wouldn’t you like to walk about and see 
the grove ? Or sit down if you’d rather.” 

Some of them walked about for a while, many seated 
themselves at once on the soft, pine-needle-covered 
ground. Had it not been for the Admiral’s imposing 
figure, Haney felt sure many of them would have 
stretched their full length, with joy. As it was, Glenn 
led a number of the boys to a half -hidden corner of the 
grove where they might kick up their heels without 
fear of giving offense. And Glenn entertained them ; 
there was no doubt about that. They asked him ques- 
tions without stint, for a city boy who had led a life 


196 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

SO full of strange experiences had never come their way 
before. 

Glenn answered everything they asked without the 
least self-consciousness, and in return they told him 
many things about themselves, and Glenn listened 
with the greatest interest to details about the mill, the 
dry-goods store and the Potterville Clarion^ for which 
two of the boys served as carriers. 

“ It’s just the way that doctor at the hospital said it 
was,” Glenn thought as he listened. “ There’s most 
every kind of person in every place, no matter how 
small ’tis.” 

“ Hi ! there ! ” he cried suddenly straightening up, 
and giving a shrill whistle. “ Did you hear that call ? 
That’s Mona Macdonald, and it means it must be half- 
past four ; something’s going to happen, but I don’t 
know what. Come on, let’s find out.” 

The boys trooped after their leader, but when they 
got back to the center of the grove where the picnick- 
ers were gathered, there was nothing to be seen of 
Desdemona, nor of Haney and Marguerite. Mrs. Car- 
ter also had vanished, and Glenn looked in vain for 
Aunt Sylvia. 

“ Where are all our folks, I wonder ? ” he thought, 
but at that moment he saw two familiar little figures, 


The Picnic 


»97 


one standing at each side of the Admiral to whom they 
were talking together, while he turned his head from 
one to the other as partially as he could. 

“ Why, Miss Mary and Miss Althea ! Where’d you 
come from ? My, but I’m mighty glad to see you ! ” 
cried Glenn, and the Misses Hartshorn turned from the 
Admiral to greet him with pink cheeks and little gray 
curls bobbing with excitement. 

« Why, King Arthur Donovan, how brown you’ve 
grown ! ” said Miss Mary. 

“ And how tall and broad-chested ! ” said Miss Althea. 
“ Sister, I never saw a greater change in any boy, did 
you ? ” 

‘‘ Never,” agreed Miss Mary. “ It’s through our kind 
new friend Mrs. Carter that we’re here, as a surprise to 
our old friends the Comptons, and to dear little Nancy 
and the Admiral. We’ve shut the shop for one week. 
If we lose custom by it — and sister and I are prepared 
for the worst — it cannot be helped. We’ve not had an 
outing, away from business, for many, many years.” 

‘‘Too many to count, sister,” said Miss Althea 
briskly. “ Mr. Carter, didn’t your wife tell us to listen 
for a bird call, and don’t you hear one ? ” 

“ I do,” said Mr. Carter ; “ she said we were to go 
where the bird called us. Come, everybody ! ” and he 


igS T/ie Admiral' s L,ittle Companion 

turned to the groups behind, who had all begun to 
listen to the wonderful bird call. 

“ Where’s Car’line ? ” asked Mrs. Spencer who had 
been taking a nap. “ She ought to hear that bird — if 
’tis a bird.” 

“ It’s one kind of a bird,” said Glenn flashing his 
smile at the mother of little Car’line. “ I guess we’ll 
all see it in a minute.” 

The bird seemed to call them to a place where small 
trees stood thickly together, but Mr. Carter, who seemed 
to have received some private information, lifted from 
the ground one small tree, as Jack Beaumont lifted an- 
other close to it, and there appeared a short path which 
led into a wide clearing. In the very center of this 
clearing sat Aunt Sylvia in a big rocking-chair with 
little Car’line in her lap, while around her, on piles of 
bright-hued cushions, were seated eleven other girls; 
their eyes turned resolutely away from the picnickers 
who came thronging in through the gap, and were 
fastened on Aunt Sylvia’s face. 

Aunt Sylvia’s eyes were shut, as she rocked to and 
fro, humming a little tune to herself. 

’Pears like hit’s mos’ time fo’ de nightingale to come 
roun’ wid dat purty song o’ his,” Aunt Sylvia said at 
last, stopping her humming. “ ’Long as he ain’t hyah. 


The Picnic 


>99 


I’s got to sing a little myself, honey. I’s gwine call 
him now f’om whar he’s hiding. I reckon dat’ll fetch 
him. 

Oh, de nightingale am swingin’ 

On de bough, an’ singin’, singin’, 

Like he’d split his little t’roat in two. 

’Bout de summer moon he’s tellin’ 

An’ his little heart am swellin’ 

Wid his joy j he’s singin’, singin’ jess for you.” 

It was a crooning melody, so easily caught that 
Glenn could scarcely keep from humming it when, as 
Aunt Sylvia stopped, the eleven little figures on the 
cushions began to hum, rocking back and forth, their 
arms folded, their faces looking down as if each small 
right shoulder pillowed a baby’s head. 

“ They’re doing that right in time with the tune 
Aunt Sylvia’s been singing,” whispered Glenn to the 
boy next him, who happened to be Koger. 

“Yes, and I think Mona Macdonald will be the 
nightingale,” whispered Eoger in return. “ S-sh, there 
she is.” 

Sure enough, from behind some tree, unseen, the lit- 
tle human nightingale trilled out her song, and all the 
while the small figures rocked and hummed Aunt 
Sylvia’s melody. 


200 The AdmiraP s Tittle Companion 

“ My stars, that’s a pretty sight an’ a pretty tune,” 
said Bartley Pearson when the humming and trilling 
stopped and Aunt Sylvia began her second verse. 
“ Ain’t it. Mis’ Potter ? Say, what’s set you off to cry- 
ing ? Anything gone' wrong ? ” 

“ No, there isn’t, hasn’t,” whispered Mrs. Potter in- 
dignantly. “ I declare you’re enough to try the patience 
of a saint ! ” 

Mr. Pearson turned a mild, perplexed face on her, but 
she avoided his gaze, moving closer to her husband. 

“Well, women folks are the beatenest ! ” remarked 
Mr. Pearson to Mr. Lord when, the song being over, 
Mr. and Mrs. Potter stepped quickly away. “ I was 
going to^engage Mis’ Potter in talk, and now she’s cut 
and run. Where the young folks going now ? ” 

Aunt Sylvia rose from her chair, setting down little 
Car’line, and took from the ground behind her a big 
wicker basket ; this the children piled high with 
cushions, and gathered the others, one under each arm. 
Each little girl carried a dull red and a dark blue 
cushion against her white dress, and as the audience 
parted to let them pass, the procession, led by Aunt 
Sylvia singing and Desdemona trilling like a flute, 
filed through the gap and out into the grove. 

There on the ground were many little back-rests. 


The Picnic 


201 


made by Mr. Potter and his assistants, waiting for the 
cushions to be laid against them, while the other pil- 
lows were strewn about, in spots the children thought 
would be inviting — and which speedily proved to be so. 

“ And it was all Mrs. Carter’s planning,” JSTancy told 
Miss Mary and Miss Althea when the winding proces- 
sion had finished its task and she was free to speak to 
the latest guests. “ And she’s given us the pleasure of 
you, too ! Isn’t she lovely ? And she’s stayed in the 
background all the time, so nobody but us will ever 
know how much she’s done.” 

“ I think she feels thanked enough in other ways, 
dear child,” said Miss Mary, looking at Haney’s eyes 
so full of love and admiration for the graceful young 
woman who was coming toward them with her husband. 
“ Don’t you think so, sister ? ” 

“ I do,” said Miss Althea decidedly, “ and so would 
anybody else.” 


CHAPTEE XIX 


THE ADMIEAL JOINS THE ORCHESTRA 

There was some one else whom Xancy wished to 
thank before that wonderful picnic was over. And the 
second surprise was greater even than the first. Xancy 
was learning to know the ways that Mrs. Carter’s magic 
worked ; it was not impossible that almost any one or 
anything might be brought to Beaumont Corners by the 
aid of her golden wand ; but that magic could be 
worked with her grandfather — that Xancy had never 
for a moment dreamed. 

When supper was over — and such a picnic supper as 
it was, with sandwiches, cakes, salads, coffee and 
lemonade, cold meats, and beaten biscuit ! — Jack made 
an announcement which brought a round of applause. 

“ If our friends will kindly gather in groups, or as 
they please, in the space between the two trees marked 
with a chalk cross,” he said indicating two giant pines 
which stood a good distance apart, and back of which 
there was a gradual rise in the land, ‘‘ my grandfather, 
Admiral Beaumont, would like to say a few words to 
you, after which the entertainment will close with a 
202 


The Admiral yoins the Orchestra 203 

short concert given by the Camp Wind- A way Or- 
chestra.” 

The audience gathered, as requested, the little people 
in front, their elders behind them. Some mothers held 
the babies who had gone to sleep, and a few drowsy 
heads leaned against broad shoulders, but for the most 
part the guests were wide awake and eager. They 
laughed again as the members of the orchestra took 
their seats on wooden chairs arranged by Sylvanus in a 
little clearing, opposite the audience, where there was 
a lovely view of the river for background, and off in 
the western sky the glow of the sunset. 

“There’s skillets for banjos, mother,” whispered 
little Car’line Spencer ; “ see them ! And there’s a 
mortar ’n’ pestle, see ! And a tin horn, mother, like 
ours ! and a dish-pan ! ” 

“Sure enough,” said her mother. “Well, I reckon 
we shall hear some queer noises now. But they’re 
nice folks, and they’ve given us all a good time ; it’s a 
pity if we can’t endure a little something to let ’em 
have their fun. My sakes, Car’line, look at that har- 
monica the General’s got, made out of a clothes-horse ! 
Well, I never ! If that don’t beat everything I ever 
saw for a contrivance ! ” 

Mr. Pearson stepped across the space designed to 


204 Admiral' s L,ittle Companion 

separate the performers from the audience to view the 
harmonica at close range, the General having been 
assigned to a front seat. 

‘‘ What do you expect to accomplish with that con- 
traption ? ” he inquired, after surveying it with down- 
dropped mouth. 

“Wait and see,” counseled the General, and Mr. 
Pearson, in deference to the freely-expressed wishes of 
his neighbors, returned to the auditorium. 

When the performers were all seated the Admiral, 
holding something which looked like a roll of manu- 
script in his hand, advanced to the edge of the orchestra, 
and standing beside the General he waited for a mo- 
ment, bespeaking attention by his attitude and air. 

“I do hope grandfather hasn’t written a speech,” 
thought Nancy, “ because it would be so hard for him 
to read it, and it would probably be very long and full 
of large words. Oh, I hope he hasn’t ! ” 

Her fears were groundless, for the Admiral’s words 
were few and unusually simple. 

“ It has been a pleasure to me to see you all here to- 
day,” he said slowly, “ and I hope there 'will be many 
more such pleasures while my life is spared. We are 
all grateful to the young people whose work has made 
your coming here possible. Shall we not give three 


The Admiral Joins the Orchestra 205 

cheers for the Beaumont Forestry League, my friends ? 
Now, one — two — three ! ” 

Such hearty cheers as rang through the grove ; then, 
before their echo had died away, a chorus of boys’ 
voices called lustily, “ Three times three for the Ad- 
miral. Come on, now ! Bhout ! ” 

And they shouted, while the old Admiral, leaning on 
his stick, bowed again and again. Once more, it 
seemed to him, a Beaumont had come into his own, 
and not a heritage of bondsmen and slaves, but of free- 
spoken, warm-hearted friends and neighbors from 
whom his hospitality brought rich returns of admira- 
tion and respect. 

When the shouting was over, the Admiral slipped 
from its paper cover a round stick of bamboo which 
had an opening in its side and was hollow for two- 
thirds of its depth. 

Aunt Sylvia clutched Sylvanus and Betty, between 
whom she stood, when she saw this object. 

“Fo’ de land’s sake! dat’s whar my taper-holder’s 
been gone at dis las’ fo’tnight!” she whispered to 
Betty. “ You ’member I’s kep’ axin’ you is you seen 
it?” 

“ One of my young friends, thinking I might like to 
be a member of the orchestra,” said the Admiral, hold- 


2 o 6 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

ing the little bamboo stick so that all might see it, 
“ and realizing that at my age amusements are not as 
plentiful as in earlier years, has persuaded me to per- 
form on this article which bears some likeness to the 
flute I played as a young man. He has given me a 
number of long and careful rehearsals and I trust I 
shall acquit myself creditably.” 

Whereupon, with no more words, the Admiral seated 
himself in the chair from which General Compton 
hastily removed his harmonica, and placing his flute at 
his lips, turned a grave face toward Mrs. Carter, as 
with a stove-lifter for baton, amid wild applause she 
stepped up on the soap box which was to serve for the 
conductor’s stand. 

The performers found the mirth of the audience so 
contagious that while they beat, pounded, rattled, 
jingled or sawed their instruments, their lips, through 
which a steady hum or whistle was supposed to pro- 
ceed, often refused to remain puckered. They laughed 
until they nearly cried. Through all the hilarity only 
two persons maintained their gravity — Mrs. Carter, 
whose stove-lifter never failed in its steady beat, and 
the Admiral, whose eyes were fixed on the stove-lifter 
while his old fingers played on the bamboo stick, with 
all the earnestness of a professional flutist. 


The Admiral "Joins the Orchestra 207 

When the last tune had been played and the Camp 
Wind- A way Orchestra had been generously applauded, 
the voice of Bartley Pearson rose. 

“ Before we start for home,” he said, “ I wisht we 
could have one more selection, rendered by Aunt 
Sylvia here, and the little Macdonald girl, with the 
rest of us humming along easy. I wisht we could 
have ‘ Old Black Joe.’ ” 

And they did have it. When it was over, the pic- 
nickers collected their baskets and wraps, and, many of 
them still humming, started along the river path that 
led them back, under the clear pale sky from which a 
few early stars twinkled down on them, to their homes. 
The fathers carried the smallest children, and the 
mothers walked beside them. 

Nancy went to Glenn, who stood at a place where 
he could watch the home-goers when they reached a 
curve in the path. His happy, tired face turned to 
her, when he heard her footsteps. 

“ Hasn’t it been the grand day for the kiddies and 
the grown-ups, too ? ” he said. “ It’s been the best time 
I ever had, too.” 

‘‘ It ought to have been,” said Nancy, softly. “ Oh, 
Glenn, how did you get grandfather to play ? Jack 
was saying to me a little while ago that he wouldn’t 


2 o 8 The Admirar s Little Companion 

really have dared ask him. And you did it, and grand- 
father liked it.” 

Glenn looked at her, through the gathering dusk, 
with his wide smile. 

“ Why, ’twasn’t anything to dare^'* he said slowly. 
“ The Admiral’s just an old man, Nancy, and I thought 
he felt kind of left out, that was all. And I knew 
that none of you folks would want him to feel that 
way — and I knew — I knew he’d think I’d look at it 
just the way all the rest of the poor folks would,” said 
the boy without a shade of either pride or humility in 
his tone — simply the frankness of truth. “ And that 
if Pd like to see him taking part, they would ; and so 
I asked him — that’s how it was.” 


CHAPTEK XX 


THE TREASURE FROM PIRATES’ ROCK 

The bond between Glenn and the Beaumonts grew 
stronger with every day that passed. Xancy began 
to wonder how she could fill the boy’s place when he 
went away to school, for the Admiral and the General 
had decided, and Glenn had agreed, that school was 
what he needed more than anything else for the next 
few years. 

“ But how’m I ever going to pay you back ? ” the 
boy asked, turning from one to the other of his coun- 
selors. “ Supposing after you’ve spent a lot of money 
on me, I’m awful slow getting started in my practice, 
same as doctors most always are, even the best ones — 
and I’ll be a good one,” he added, his clear eyes on the 
Admiral’s face ; ‘‘ I’m bound to be a good one ! ” 

“ The good ones always succeed at last, if not at 
first,” said the General ; “ my old friend and I aren’t 
in any hurry to have the money we’re advancing paid 
back, my lad. There’s a chance for scholarships in the 
school, too.” 

“ I’ll get one,” and the look of dogged resolution 
209 


210 The Admiral's Tittle Companion 

that came into Glenn’s face made the Admiral pound 
the floor with his stick. 

“ That’s right,” he said ; “ that’s the way to feel, 
boy. You’ll do.” 

While ITancy was wondering how she could keep 
her grandfather from missing Glenn when he went 
away from Beaumont Corners, there came across the 
sky of their happiness and pride in the boy a cloud, 
very small at first, but growing larger until it threat- 
ened to bring a storm that would leave distress and 
wreckage in its wake. There came an afternoon when 
I^ancy heard with surprise Glenn’s protesting voice, 
and then her grandfather’s, raised in anger, from the 
piazza ; then there was the sound of running feet — then 
silence, and last of all, the Admiral’s voice demanding 
her presence at once. 

“ What ’is ^troubling you ? Please, grandfather, tell 
me ! ” begged hTancy when she was confronted by the 
old man’s wrathful, indignant face. “Wasn’t Glenn 
here a few minutes ago ? ” 

“ He was,” thundered the Admiral, “ but he won’t 
come again till he apologizes to me for calling your 
brother and the General and his boys a set of cruel, 
brutal life-destroyers.” 

“ Oh, grandfather ! ” cried Haney. “ Glenn ! to say 


211 


The Treasure from Pirates' Rock 

such a thing as that ! It doesn’t sound one bit Like 
him ! ” 

‘‘He said it by inference,” the Admiral told her, 
grimly. “ He is too gentle and sensitive himself, I 
gather, to go hunting — to indulge in a sport which 
gentlemen have followed for years, without damaging 
their reputation for tenderness. I told him so. He 
refused to go off with all the others, to-day, for the 
third time. Twice before I have thought he had other 
reasons for staying at home. But to-day, when I told 
him I didn’t need him, and wasn’t willing to accept the 
sacrifice of his pleasure, he told me the truth. He 
thinks hunting, for the pleasure of it, is wrong, I 
gathered from his remarks. Ah, well, perhaps we’ve 
made a mistake. Perhaps we’d better let him go back 
to his old ways of life.” 

Haney clasped and unclasped her hands before she 
spoke, while the Admiral looked off over the meadows, 
his old face filled with bitter disappointment. 

“ Grandfather,” said Haney at last, in a very small 
voice, “do you think the birds haven’t any right to 
live ? ” 

“ Eight to live ! ” echoed the Admiral. “ What fool- 
ishness is that, Haney ? Who said they hadn’t any 
right to live ? ” 


212 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

“ Bat the hunters take it from them, grandfather,” 
persisted ITancy, in spite of the steel in the Admiral’s 
glance. “ When a lion or some animal bigger and 
stronger than we are kills a person, we think it is 
dreadful ; but I suppose it is just their way of hunting, 
grandfather.” 

“ Do you mean to compare a senseless, fluttering bird 
to a human being, Nancy ? ” sternly demanded the 
Admiral. 

But Nancy held her ground in spite of him. 

“ I think I do, grandfather,” she said clearly. “ I 
think they are lovely, and happy, and never do any one 
harm — and they don’t live so very long, anyway,” she 
added wistfully. “ Didn’t grandmother love the birds, 
grandfather ? ” 

The thought of the bird-houses, put away when his 
wife died, because he could not bear to see the birds 
fluttering in and out and remember that the one who 
had cared for them had gone, never to return — that 
thought came to the Admiral in a flash of remem- 
brance, but he put it away. 

“Your grandmother would not have presumed to 
criticize me or my guests,” said the old man sternly. 
“You may go, Nancy, and send Sylvanus to me.” 

It was months since the Admiral had spoken to her 


The Treasure from Pirates' Rock 213 

SO severely. IS^ancy knew he had been suffering phys- 
ical pain for days, bearing it grimly, and she also 
knew how he resented the least criticism at first, al- 
though he often acknowledged its justice later. 

“Oh, dear,” she sighed, as she went through the 
house and out to the barn to summon Sylvanus. “ I 
do wish this hadn’t happened. Poor Glenn — and poor 
grandfather ! ” 

When she had found Sylvanus and sent him to the 
piazza, she walked slowly down the path toward the 
camp. Marguerite was sleeping off a cold, with Mrs. 
Compton to guard her. Dick was spending the after- 
noon at the Sigourneys’ by special invitation. Desde- 
mona was making a sketch of him holding a big yel- 
low cat which had attached itself to the Sigourney 
household. 

“ Perhaps Aunt Sylvia is down at the camp with 
Mrs. Dole,” thought I^ancy. “ I believe I’ll go down 
and see. Perhaps we can find Glenn and comfort him.” 

If she had taken the path to the rose garden, instead 
of going through the orchard, IS’ancy would have found 
Aunt Sylvia, and Glenn, too. Aunt Sylvia had heard 
the Admiral’s angry voice, and then the hurrying foot- 
steps ; more than that she had seen the boy’s troubled 
face as he fled, and had noticed which path he took. 


214 Admiral' s L,ittle Companion 

I reckon ’tis ’bout time I went down in de gyarden 
and looked round jess a mite,” muttered Aunt Sylvia. 
“ ’Bout time dere was some rose hips dat mought be 
cut off to ’vantage. I reckon I’ll jess take a little time 
riffht now to see what dar is to be done.” 

She got her shears from their nail on the kitchen 
wall, and followed the path the boy had taken a few 
minutes before. Through the arbor she went, and 
along to the corner where the big geranium rioted be- 
side Haney’s old favorite, the ambrosia. Before the 
geranium stood Glenn, motionless, his face white, his 
mouth set, and his eyes dark with trouble. 

“ How dar ain’t anyt’ing in dis worl’ dat ought to 
make you feel like you does now,” said Aunt Sylvia’s 
velvet voice. “You look at de sunshine, boy, an’ you 
breave in de air, an’ don’ be so down-hearted. If 
you’s got a trouble, boy, it’ll pass by; eberyt’ing in 
dis worl’ ’cepting de air an’ de sunshine an’ t’ings like 
dat, passes by, an’ don’ come no mo’.” 

Glenn looked at her, but there was no smile on his 
face. 

“All summer long I’ve been wishing I could do 
something for the folks that have done so much for 
me,” he said dully ; “ some hig thing, I mean. And 
now, ’stead of that, what’s happened ? The Admiral’s 


The Treasure from Pirates' Rock 215 

mad at me, and he’ll stay so. I can’t change him, Aunt 
Sylvia, because I can’t change myself. I won’t kill 
birds even to please the Admiral and ISTancy.” 

Aunt Sylvia’s eyes blazed, as she laid her hand on 
his arm. 

“ Don’ you speak o’ my lamb dat-a-way,” she com- 
manded. “ My little Miss Nancy dat wouldn’t hurt de 
weeniest t’ing dat eber flew ! Don’ you know dat, 
boy ? ” and she shook him by the arm, but her voice 
softened at the end, as she looked at him. 

“ She doesn’t mind her brother Jack’s doing it,” said 
Glenn miserably. She thinks everything he does is 
just right. So I s’posed ” 

“ Folks gets into piles o’ trouble, 8‘jfosing^'^ said Aunt 
Sylvia. “ Now you tell me all de circ’mstances ; lie 
right down comf ’table on de grass, an’ I’ll sit on dis yer 
bench. And ’fore you begin, you let me tell you one 
t’ing — I’s knowed de Adm’ral since befo’ he growed 
up, and dere’s no stay mad to him ; dere’s plenty ob get 
mad, boy, but not a mite o’ stay mad. Now you tell 
me de whole story.” 

And folding her arms. Aunt Sylvia listened, with 
many nods of her old head and frequent “ M-m’s.” 

“ And so I reckon I’d better scoot back to the city,” 
said Glenn forlornly at the end of his recital, “ where they 


2 i 6 The AdmiraV s Little Companion 

won’t be bothered with me. I reckon the Admiral’s 
made up his mind they can’t make a gentleman of me, 
the way he’d hoped, ’cause while he was talking he let 
out a lot of things I don’t do right that I ought to have 
caught on to by this time. I reckon I’d better go back 
to the kind o’ folks I belong with ; I can get my news- 
paper route again ; and there’s the hospital. Only I 
wish I could do something big for ’em before I go back, 
I kept hoping I’d find that treasure.” 

Aunt Sylvia let him talk, her old eyes resting quietly 
on his face. She had heard boys talk, had helped them 
through their troubles, many, man}’^ times in her long life. 

“ Kow you mind me, boy,” she said, but her voice 
was gentle and persuasive. “ You go down into de 
camp, and get yo’ little shooting-piece, and go practice 
on de target fo’ a while. De pop-popping will kind o’ 
let off yo’ feelings, an’ while you’s at it, I'^ll ’tend to de 
Adm’ral. I’s done it befo’ now,” said Aunt Sylvia, 
“ and I’s done it good ! ” 

When Nancy entered the camp by the little winding 
path, it seemed to her she never had known such still- 
ness. It was one of the September days when there is 
scarcely a rustle of the leaves ; scarcely a perceptible 
movement of clouds in the faint blue of the sky ; when 


The Treasure from Pirates' Rock 217 

all the hills are hung with purple haze, and the whole 
world seems waiting for something to happen. 

“It’s so still, 3^ou can feel it,” said Nancy to herself. 
“ It’s as if everything were asleep. Mrs. Dole is ; ” and 
she laughed softly as she heard a gentle, steady sound 
which came from the tiny bedroom of Wind- A way 
Lodge, so she walked around it. “ I’d think she’d like 
to take her nap outdoors instead of in that stuffy little 
place, on such a warm day. Now where shall I go ? 
I believe I’ll go to Pirates’ Kock. Perhaps poor Glenn 
is there ; perhaps I can think of something to say to him 
that will help a little bit — though I don’t know what it 
could be.” 

She walked slowly, her pretty head bent, thinking 
over the puzzle of how two people could both be brave 
and both be kind, and yet feel so differently about many 
things which seemed to Nancy to concern bravery and 
kindness more than anything else. She was not ready 
to think that her beloved brother would be cruel to any- 
thing that lived, and yet — “ The birds don’t need to be 
killed,” said Nancy, thinking out loud as she reached 
Pirates’ Eock. “ They aren’t harming any one, and 
we don’t need them for food, as we do chickens.” Nancy 
caught her breath. “ Perhaps we don’t need chickens,” 
she said, and began to puzzle over the problem. 


2 i 8 The Admiral's Liittle Companion 

The air was so warm, and the place so still that 
Nancy began to get drowsy, as she sat leaning on her 
elbow, looking out over the river. 

“ Chickens aren’t like lovely birds that fly and shine 
against the sky,” she said at last. “ They certainly do 
not seem one bit like birds. I think chickens were 
meant to — be — eaten,” she added drowsily ; “ and no- 
body — shoots ” 

The puzzle tinged her dreams, perhaps, but she had 
no more waking thoughts to give to it. The place was 
so still, the little figure stretched on the great rock so 
motionless that a visitor no one would have welcomed 
stole into the camp from the deep woods, and noise- 
lessly drew nearer and nearer to Nancy, now with head 
upraised, now hidden in the short grass. 

Glenn had followed Aunt Sylvia’s bidding. Half an 
hour after Nancy seated herself on Pirates’ Eock, the 
boy approached it from the river path. He had made 
up his mind that he would practice shooting at a big 
stone across the river, a queer shaped stone which had 
afforded practice to all the boys more than once during 
the summer. He walked softly, not even whistling as 
he usually did ; he had not quite heart enough to 
whistle, although Aunt Sylvia’s words had been vaguely 


The Treasure from Pirates' Rock 219 

comforting. Somehow, although he could not guess 
how, Glenn felt sure Aunt Sylvia would set him right 
with the old Admiral. 

“ Why, there’s Nancy — and she’s asleep,” he said 
under his breath, as he came out of the path at the 
foot of the rock, and then, in the next second, he saw 
something which sent his heart into his throat. 

He could not even think of one of the prayers he 
knew so well, as he half knelt, aiming at the sinister 
head, upraised, so close now to Nancy’s tumbled yel- 
low curls. 

“ Oh, make me steady ! Make me kill him ! Make 
me steady ! ” cried the soul of the little Irish boy, and 
while it cried he fired. 

Nancy woke, frightened. Close to her lay a great 
throbbing coil of something from which the life had 
gone. 

“ Oh, what is it ? Where did he come from, Glenn ? ” 
she asked, shaking with fright, as the boy ran to her. 
“ And you’ve killed him ! Oh, I was dreaming about 
shots, and then there came a real one ! I was sure it 
was real, Glenn ! ” 

Keal ! Well, I reckon ’twas real if anything ever 
was,” said the boy, with a queer shake in his voice. 
“ He’d ’ve had you in another minute. I didn’t know 


220 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

you ever had snakes like that here, IS^ancy. Isn’t he 
the ugly chap ? ” 

Haney tried to look, but she could not bring herself 
to it. And there was no need, for at that moment 
there came a sound of voices, and Jack Beaumont, fol- 
lowed by the Compton boys, with the General bringing 
up the rear, rounded the turn in the path. 

“ Here’s the renegade,” cried J ack half scornfully, as 
he saw Glenn. “Been sitting on that old rock all 
afternoon day-dreaming ? Haney — ^Hancy, what’s the 
matter ? ” 

That evening the Admiral held court on the Beau- 
mont piazza. His afternoon had been far from agree- 
able ; first had come the trouble with Glenn ; then the 
disappointment at Haney’s lack of sympathy with his 
views ; then a trying season of disciplining Sylvanus, 
ending with his dismissal to the barn from which he 
had been summoned ; then a time of loneliness, and 
last of all, before the arrival of the triumphal proces- 
sion with Glenn in its midst, a chastening period with 
Aunt Sylvia. 

“ How she managed to say so much in five min- 
utes, I don’t know and never shall,” the Admiral 
informed the General days afterward, “ but I think 


221 


The Treasure from Pirates' Rock 

there was nothing on her mind to say that she left 
unsaid.” 

But now it was growing dark. The story of Glenn’s 
shot had been told and retold to the old man’s growing 
pride. And Glenn was sitting close at his left hand, 
while Nancy was at his right, and Jack, on the top 
step, was at his grandfather’s feet. Mr. Sigourney was 
there with his mother, and Desdemona gazed at Glenn 
with awe and admiration, while Marguerite had a firm 
clutch on Nancy’s skirt which lay touching her own. 

Aunt Sylvia hovered in the background, never far 
from her little mistress, while a glance at the darken- 
ing doorway of the hall would have revealed Betty’s 
figure, and another glance at the lawn near a small 
shrub would have shown Sylvanus who had been trim- 
ming it, and picking its leaves from the ground one by 
one, for the last hour. 

There came a silence as the moon, riding higher and 
higher, rode at last above the tallest tree, and shone 
down on the piazza. The Compton boys, in an excited 
group on the steps with their father and mother, 
pointed to it, twitching Mrs. Compton’s sleeve. They 
were really beyond speech for the time being. 

“ Ah,” said the Admiral, as if he were greeting a 
tardy guest, “the moon at last. That was all we 


222 The Admiral' s Tittle Companion 

needed to make the evening perfect. I’ve been think- 
ing what we might do to keep this day always in grate- 
ful remembrance. We all have our differences of 
opinion,” here he patted Glenn’s hand encouragingly, 
“ and we’re all of us likely to be mistaken.” He 
turned to Jack, and held out his hand to his grandson. 
“ What can you suggest that we might do. Jack ? ” he 
asked. 

“ I, sir,” said the young man slowly. “ I don’t know 
— unless — suppose, sir, we agreed to keep the shots of 
the Beaumont Forestry League for such play, and such 
work as Glenn has done. All the boys will agree to it, 
if I say so.” 

“ That’s right,” said Ted to Roger ; “ whatever Jack 
says goes.” 

“ Ah, well,” said the Admiral, “ that might be the 
best way to hold the day in remembrance ; at least it 
is one way ; it is one way, and a good one. But ” 

He sat tapping the arms of his chair while the others 
waited, silently. At last he put out his hand and gath- 
ered Haney’s little fingers into his clasp. Then he 
turned to Glenn, and in the moonlight they could all 
see that he was smiling. 

“ This little girl told me at supper to-night that you 
have always believed, and still believe, she thinks, that 


The Treasure from Pirates’ Rock 223 

Pirates’ Rock holds treasure,” he said ; “ she told me 
you had wished greatly to find it for us. Let me tell 
you now, my boy, that no treasure the old rock can 
hold could compare in value with the one you saved 
for me there, to-day. You may rest content.” 


‘ Other Stories in this Series are 
THE ADMIRAL’S GRANDDAUGHTER 
THE ADMIRAL’S LITTLE HOUSEKEEPER 
THE ADMIRAL’S LITTLE SECRETARY 


SEF 12 1912 






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